The Back Porch
by Qweb
Summary: At the new Avengers training facility, there's a back patio where people go for solitude or for conversation. Takes place after Age of Ultron. Not a "A Very Good Team" story; more in line with the MCU. Ch11-13-A Vision of Pain Ch14-Something to be Thankful For Ch15-18-Top Secret Santa Ch19-A Taxing Day Ch20-Early Holiday Ch21-Just Like We Practiced Ch22-We've Talked About This
1. The Back Porch

**The Back Porch**

The new Avengers facility had a cafeteria along the back, with a patio full of tables that had umbrellas to provide shade for the diners. Patrons could look out across the meadow, where trainees skirmished, toward the woods.

During the day, the cafe was bustling, full of SHIELD agents and the unspecified paramilitary forces, who trained alongside the Avengers.

But after hours, those people went back to their homes or their barracks, leaving the patio to the Avengers. The Avengers rarely sat at the tables, umbrellas now furled. They sat on the side of the planter or on the wide steps leading down to the meadow.

Steve Rogers called it the back porch, remembering his mother and Bucky's mother sitting on the front porch while sewing and shelling peas and peeling potatoes.

The Avengers retreated to the back porch when they sought solitude, finding solace, gazing across the calm field toward the peaceful woods, with only the rustling leaves to keep them company.

And sometimes teammates shared the peace and quiet, and the solitude.


	2. Staring at Trees

_A/N: I posted an introductory chapter at the same time I posted this. So read Chapter 1 first, please._

 **Staring at Trees**

At dusk, when the day's training was done, Natasha Romanoff sat on a step at the new Avengers' facility. She gazed across the empty lawn at the woods beyond. She was alone with her thoughts, with her doubts, with her regrets. She stared across the lawn at the trees and all that green reminded her of what she'd lost.

"It's more interesting than a wall," admitted a familiar voice behind her.

Natasha didn't jump. She'd sensed him coming. He had a presence that made itself felt, even when he tried to be quiet and he hadn't tried to be quiet coming up behind her. He knew better.

"It makes a change," Natasha answered with a shrug.

Steve Rogers sat on the step beside her. His shoulder nudged hers.

"Want me to go find him and beat him up for you," he offered, like a big brother should.

Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at the ludicrous suggestion —as if she needed any help to beat up a normal man, as if anyone at all could beat up Bruce Banner. "No," she said, a smile flirting with her lips. Steve was glad to see it.

"Good, because I'd have to borrow the Hulkbuster and I don't think it would be a comfortable fit," Steve admitted.

Natasha had an image of big Steve Rogers bursting out the seams of an Iron Man suit. She giggled despite herself, then tried to compose herself.

"You're spoiling my brooding, Rogers," she complained.

"That was the plan."

"And you are the Man with the Plan."

For a moment, Natasha looked like the flippant woman he'd been partnered with, but then the teasing oozed out of her and she looked downhearted again.

"It wasn't Bruce's fault," she said. "It was mine. He came for me in Ultron's dungeon. He wanted to run away with me, someplace we could live quiet, undangerous lives. He wanted me. But I pushed him away." She gave a tiny, choked excuse for a laugh. "I literally pushed him away. I pushed Bruce off a cliff because you … we … the Avengers needed the Hulk to fight. What kind of lover, what kind of friend does that?"

"One who was right," Steve answered. "There wouldn't have been anywhere to run to, if we hadn't stopped Ultron. Natasha, I don't know what Bruce feels now, what kind of regrets he has while he's staring at a bunch of palm trees on Fiji, but imagine what he would have felt if he'd woken up, the only survivor after Ultron's "meteor" destroyed humanity. You saved him from that."

Horror and guilt. Natasha knew Bruce too well to think he would have felt anything other than horror and guilt in that situation. It was something she could cling to, that she had saved Bruce from that.

"I knew there were too many lives at stake," Natasha confessed. "And you, and Clint, and all my best friends were out there fighting. I couldn't run away, even though I'd promised to. I couldn't run away then. What does it say about me, Steve? The ultimate shadow spy couldn't run away from a brawl."

Steve laughed without mirth. "That you've been hanging around me too much? I never could run away." He shook his head. "You know how I feel about Bucky. He's closer than a brother. I would do anything to save him. When we were fighting on the helicarrier, I kept talking, trying to pull Bucky Barnes out of the Winter Soldier, but eventually I had to break his arm and knock him unconscious, because all those innocent lives were more important than Bucky and me. I'd sacrifice my own life for him in a second, but I won't sacrifice the world."

Natasha considered his words, then groaned and pressed her face against his shoulder. "You've compromised me. The Black Widow is beginning to think like Captain America."

"And so the Soviet Union falls again, thanks to the corrupting power of truth, justice and Big Macs," Steve said in the solemn voice of a news anchor.

Natasha snorted. "Don't forget Starbucks," she said.

"Starbucks is pervasive," Steve agreed.

Leaning comfortably against Steve's shoulder, she resumed gazing at the woods, but now she saw they weren't empty after all. Birds fluttered out to catch a last bug or grab a last seed before sundown. A herd of cautious deer hesitated at the edge of the woods, tempted by the lush grass but wary of the open space.

Steve's breath ruffled her hair. Natasha knew she was not alone and life went on, thanks to Hulk and Black Widow. Thanks to the Avengers.

"Thanks, Steve," she said.

"That's what friends are for."


	3. Alone

**Alone**

Wanda Maximoff huddled on the step of the back porch as if she was protecting herself from an icy blast, though the weather was mild. The moon turned the meadow grass silver and more stars glittered in the night sky than she'd ever seen in Sokovia. It was a beautiful night, but Wanda looked miserable.

Steve Rogers stood in the darkened doorway, holding a steaming cup in his hands and watching his distressed teammate.

"Wanda seems to be more melancholy than usual," Vision said behind Steve's shoulder.

Every moment is a teaching moment, Steve thought.

"You have access to the Internet," he said. "Can you find any significance in today's date?"

Vision tilted his head as he processed. This date was not significant to Wanda, but tomorrow's …

"Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day of her birth," Vision said. "A cursory scan of the data shows that this is usually a cause for celebration."

"Not when your brother — who shared that birthdate — died recently," Steve said. "And even if they hadn't been twins, the thought that Pietro isn't here to share a special day with her makes her sad."

Now Vision's mind was racing through psychology reports about loss and holidays. It gave him an insight into what Wanda's problem was, but he didn't know what to do about it. He said so plainly.

"All we can do is show Wanda she's not alone," Steve said. "Maybe you could help the others bake her a cake."

* * *

The two beings with enhanced hearing heard rattling in the cafeteria kitchen and Sam's exasperated voice. "I've made cakes before, Romanoff. I can follow the damned directions on the box, but I've never used an industrial oven before!"

* * *

"Perhaps I should mediate between Sam and the oven," Vision suggested to Steve.

* * *

"Rhodey, leave that alone! Hanging around with Stark doesn't make you an engineer!"

"No, but my degree from MIT does, Wilson!"

* * *

"And between Sam and the others," Steve told Vision.

As Vision moved toward the kitchen, Steve carried the Styrofoam cup outside. He sat a careful arm's length from the hunched figure and offered the cup. "I thought you looked cold."

Actually, the temperature was nice. The chill Wanda felt was more spiritual than physical. She looked at Steve blankly, so lost in her thoughts she hardly recognized his presence. Steve jiggled the cup a little, letting the rich aroma of hot cocoa waft in the air.

The Avengers had learned that Wanda — deprived as a child — was a sucker for sweets, especially chocolate. The smell seemed to awaken her and she took the drink with quiet thanks. She cupped it in her hands as if to warm them and sipped the warm cocoa.

Steve sat silently, admiring the stars.

"Aren't you going to say my brother wouldn't want me to be unhappy?" Wanda said resentfully. Who had told her that in such a condescending manner? Certainly it was none of the Avengers.

"I couldn't say that. I never got a chance to know him," Steve said regretfully, surprising Wanda. "When we fought against him, he was full of anger and vengeance; maybe he would be glad to see you rage against his death."

An involuntary sound of protest left Wanda's lips. That wasn't how she remembered her brother at all.

Steve smiled kindly. "But you knew him best. Is that what he would want?

Wanda saw she had fallen into Captain America's trap, but she couldn't be angry when he spoke so gently and with such understanding.

"No," she said in almost a sob. "On holidays when I missed our parents strongly, he would pick me flowers — weeds, really, but pretty weeds. Or maybe he'd steal a pastry to make me feel better. He said it didn't help to look back. We must always look ahead."

As Wanda shifted to get more comfortable on the hard concrete step, she moved closer to Steve, unconsciously seeking human contact. He put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her head under his chin. Wanda almost rebelled, reminded of her brother, but Steve's presence was distinctly different from Pietro's. It didn't seem an insult to his memory to accept Steve's comfort.

"It's hard," Wanda said sadly. "My brother is gone. My city — the streets where I played, the market where I shopped, my whole city is rubble. The world I knew is gone. It's hard to start over." And then she remembered to whom she was talking.

"I know," Steve said.

She remembered seeing the loneliness in his mind, the void that he constantly battled.

"I don't think I'm as strong as you are," she said.

"Just remember you're not alone," he said.

She squeezed his bicep. "Neither are you."

They sat in quiet for a while, but gradually Wanda became aware of a ruckus in the nearby kitchen. Though she courteously tried to not listen to her teammates' minds, she recognized some familiar patterns. Sam and Rhodey were squabbling amiably. Natasha was focused on a task, with an edge of irritability because everyone else wasn't just as focused. (And wasn't that a familiar attitude from training!) And Vision was observing everything with fond interest.

"What's going on in the kitchen?" she asked.

Steve leaned close to whisper in her ear, "Birthday girls shouldn't ask questions."

"They're making something for me?" Wanda was surprised and touched.

"I told you, you're not alone," Steve reminded her.

"I'm not alone," Wanda repeated, and believed it.


	4. The Call

_A/N: This has been a melancholy bunch of stories so far. This is the saddest of all._

* * *

 **The Call**

Steve Rogers' phone buzzed in his pocket. When he pulled it out, Sam Wilson could see the letters DNH on the caller ID. A shadow seemed to cross Steve's eyes. Sam might have called it fear, if the man hadn't been Captain America.

"Excuse me, Sam, I need to take this," he said with his usual courtesy.

Steve stepped away and identified himself to the caller. "Yes. Yes," Sam saw his shoulders slump. "I was afraid that's why you were calling. I can be there tomorrow. All right. I understand. Thank you for calling."

He thumbed off his phone with an exaggerated delicacy that suggested he'd just as soon snap it in half, then he left the room, passing Sam as if he was invisible. The other Avengers were coming in the door. Steve barged past them without a word, his shoulder almost knocking Natasha Romanoff down. Only the Black Widow's perfect balance kept her on her feet.

"That was unusual," Vision commented. "The captain is usually most courteous."

"What happened?" Natasha demanded of Sam.

The Falcon shook his head. "He got a phone call. Bad news from the look of it."

"Friday, who was the call from?" Natasha asked.

"My privacy protocols prevent me from answering," the Irish voice responded.

"The call came from the Dalewood Nursing Home," said Vision, whose protocols included protecting his teammates.

Sam took a deep breath. "Peggy Carter," he said sadly.

"Who?" Rhodey asked.

"Peggy Carter was one of the founders of SHIELD," Natasha replied.

Sam eyed her. "Cap didn't think you knew who she was. He said you didn't recognize her picture."

"I was trying to get him to open up. It was bad timing," she admitted. "She was Cap's girl back in the day," she told Rhodey.

"Not really," Sam corrected. "They had a date, but Steve didn't make it because he went into the ice."

"So she must be quite old," Wanda ventured. "That is very sad."

"Yes."

"The nursing home records indicate that a Margaret Carter has been moved to hospice," Vision reported.

The Avengers went silent. Wanda looked from one to another, then meekly asked what this meant.

"It means she's dying," Natasha said bluntly.

"Poor Steve," Wanda said with tears in her eyes.

"Sam, you should talk to him," Rhodey said. "He's a professional at getting people to talk," he explained to the others.

"So am I," Natasha said.

"But you don't have to clean up blood spatter when Sam is done," Rhodey retorted, raising his eyebrows at Natasha.

Sam and Wanda tensed. Vision calculated the odds that Black Widow would attack her teammate. The odds were acceptably low, because Natasha just quirked a smile. "Point," she acknowledged, and nodded at Sam to follow Steve.

* * *

Cap hadn't gone far, just out to the back porch — the brooding perch, Hawkeyes called it when he heard about it. Steve sat on the step with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging.

"She's dying, Sam," he said quietly.

Sam realized the super soldier's enhanced hearing had heard every word. He started to apologize for invading his friend's privacy, but Steve just shrugged. "Saves me from having to explain everything."

Sam sat close to Steve.

"Peggy's dying," Steve said. "Really, she's been dying since I came out of the ice, but now it's official. Her organs are starting to shut down. All they can do is make her comfortable until the end."

"How soon?"

"By the end of the week. Maybe sooner. She's ready to go. I'm just not ready to let her. I still dream about what might have been and then I wake up."

"It's time to let go," Sam said sympathetically. "Time to find someone else. You've told me she wants you to be happy."

"I know, but she's the only woman who ever looked twice at Steve Rogers. The only one who saw worth in short, skinny Steve, and she's the only one who ever will. Everyone else sees Cap first."

"Then you've got to give them a chance to know Steve and not be Cap all the time."

"Cap's all I've got now," Steve said sadly.

Sam nudged him hard. "You've got me. You've got us. You told Wanda she's not alone. You're not alone, either."

"Thanks, Sam."

Steve was grateful, but it didn't relieve his sorrow. "I'm going to miss her." He wiped moisture from his eye.

Sam sighed. "You don't have to hide your feelings. Let it out, man."

"I have to set an example..."

Sam interrupted. "Maybe Cap does, but Steve doesn't. Be Steve for once."

Even before the serum, Steve hadn't liked to show weakness. As a kid it got him bullied more. As an adult, he'd gone off alone to mourn for his mother, even though Bucky and his family had tried to be there for him. Steve had always been brave, but this was more than he could handle and Sam's gentle hand on his shoulder was almost the last straw. Cap's face crumpled, but didn't break.

"It's OK," Sam said. He wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders. Steve leaned into him.

The other Avengers filed out. Wanda sat on Steve's left, sliding close to comfort him as he had comforted her. Natasha sat on the step below and put her hand on his ankle, just to show support. Rhodey sat sideways behind Cap, drawing up his legs and resting his chin on his knees. His eyes were dark as he remembered family and friends he had lost. Vision stood behind them, standing watch. He was prepared to intercept any phone calls or messages that might interrupt this bonding.

"We sympathize with your loss, captain." He said the conventional words with real feeling.

Tears ran down Steve's face. He tried to hide them.

"It's all right to let your emotions show, Cap," Rhodey said. "Judgment-free zone here."

"We're with you, Steve," Natasha said.

"You're not alone," Wanda reminded him

The grieving man leaned into Sam's shoulder. Captain America let go and Steve Rogers wept.

* * *

 _A/N: Made myself cry! These stories are not in order. This would be the last chronologically, because I think Civil War will start with Peggy_ _'s funeral. I have a couple more in mind chapters for this in mind. I hope they won_ _'t all be so sad._


	5. Attention

_A/N: Finally a Back Porch story that isn't melancholy. I promised someone a longer story this week, but didn't have a chance to edit it, so here's another shorty.  
O3 is the pay grade for an Army captain. O6 is the pay grade for an Air Force colonel. O10 is general, the highest officer rank. (There are brigadier generals and major generals and lieutenant generals but the highest is simply "general.")_

 **Attention**

"Here, Rhodes. I have photographic evidence! You can pay up anytime," Sam Wilson said magnanimously. Waving a newspaper clipping, Sam charged out onto the Avengers "back porch," closely followed by Steve Rogers.

"Wait, is that why you wanted that old photo?" asked Steve, aka Captain America. "To win a bet?"

"And to uphold your honor," Sam insisted. "Rhodes didn't believe me — a fellow airman! He didn't think you were really an O3 during the war. But here's proof."

He proudly pointed to a photo of Steve Rogers in his regular army uniform, with captain's bars plain to see on his shoulder.

"You couldn't have just asked?" Steve queried. "Did you think I'd lie?"

Seated on the steps, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff giggled like schoolgirls. Steve was the most honest man they knew.

"So Captain America really was a captain," Rhodey said in amusement. "I'm sorry I doubted you. So, which came first, the rank or the call sign?"

"The rank," Steve said. "It was part of Dr. Erskine's deal with the government. He wanted to handpick the first super soldier and he wanted that man in charge of the super soldier unit. It was all laid out in the papers I signed. I agreed to be experimented on and the Army agreed to immediately commission me as a captain. Even if I'd died, Bucky's family would have gotten my death benefit. Later when Senator Brandt heard I was a captain, he came up with the name Captain America for the war bond tour. Of course, I'm not technically a captain any more, but I kept the 'call sign'."

"Sure, I know your not in the Army any more. And I'm not a machine, even if I am War Machine," Rhodey agreed.

"Not what I meant, but that's true, too."

Rhodey frowned in confusion. "Then what did you mean?"

Sam frowned in disapproval. "Well, of course Steve wouldn't still be a captain after all these years?"

"All those years frozen in ice?" Rhodey didn't understand.

"All those years he was MIA," Sam spelled out. But Rhodey didn't look enlightened. "Man!" Sam exclaimed. "Don't you know your rights and benefits?"

"Take it easy, Sam," Steve placated his friend. "You're the one who worked for the VA. Most of us don't think about those benefits until we need them."

Sam thought about it, then nodded. "OK, that's fair. Rhodey, anyone who's MIA or a POW is entitled to the pay he would have gotten while serving plus promotions based on date of rank."

Rhodey gasped got it. "But after 70 years …"

Sam nodded in satisfaction. "O10."

"You're a general?"

"Even at the worst rate of promotion, they figured I would have made four-star general by now," Steve agreed.

"And what was that about pay? They gave you 70 years of back pay?"

"They didn't have much choice," Sam said fiercely, because he'd fought this fight on behalf of other MIA/POWs. "It's all spelled out in the Captive/POW/MIA Entitlements. Steve got accumulated pay, plus subsistence, plus housing, plus hostile fire pay and I don't know what else."

"Tony's lawyers did their best to make me as rich as he is," Steve said modestly.

"OK, I am duly impressed, sir," Rhodey said with a snap, saluting Steve smartly, even though they were both out of uniform. Steve smiled as he returned the salute.

Natasha and Wanda had been amusing themselves watching the "mine's bigger than yours" contest.

Natasha smiled mischievously, then barked, "Ten-hut!"

By deeply ingrained reflex, the two airmen and the soldier snapped to attention, making Wanda giggle. Then the guys relaxed when they realized who had given the order.

Rhodey and Sam grumbled, not really angry. "You've got the super senses," Sam complained to Steve. "Why didn't you know it was Natasha?"

"Oh, I knew it was her," the super soldier said with a shrug. "But I figure if Black Widow wants me to salute, I'd better salute. I didn't make general by being stupid!"


	6. Getting Antsy

A _/N: I wrote this by hand in two jury assembly rooms. Assembly rooms, ha! Spoilers for "Ant-Man."_

* * *

 **Getting Antsy**

Sam Wilson brooded on the back porch of the new Avengers training facility. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out how to help one of the men from his VA group. The former sergeant had stopped coming to sessions. He didn't like the man who'd taken over from Sam. But his wife said the sergeant's drinking was getting worse.

Sitting on the steps, Sam leaned on one hand while he took a swallow from a bottle of beer. Considering his options, he decided he needed to go back to DC to give the sergeant a figurative kick in the pants.

Just as he nodded to himself in decision, he felt a tickling on his fingers. Looking down, he saw ants swarming around his hand.

Sam leaped up, shaking his hand in reflex, sending the insects flying. Then Sam rolled his eyes at himself — big brave Avenger panicked by little ants.

Ants. That reminded him of …

Even as Sam thought of his incredible shrinking opponent, the crowd of ants began to move, separating, forming letters like a marching band at a football bowl game. The wavering letters read: "DON'T FREAK OUT."

"Ant-Man!" Sam breathed. He crouched close to the waiting ants, peering at their upraised faces. Did that one have a teeny tiny camera on his head? Really?

"Where are you?" Sam asked the man behind the camera.

The ants began to move again, forming an arrow pointing to the far side of the meadow.

"Friday, any signs of life over there?" Sam said, pointing his own finger in the direction the arrow indicated.

"There is one man beyond the perimeter," the computer program reported in her smooth Irish accent. (What was Stark's deal with accents, anyway?) "The same man has been there for three evenings, staying until darkness fell. He seemed to be studying insects on the ground."

"Studying insects," Sam muttered. "I'll bet! Did you notice any unusual activity among the local insects?"

Friday had not noted anything, but replaying her sensor records, she saw a slow and steady procession of ants toward the back porch. Ants had been streaming toward the Avengers training facility all evening. It was not unusual for ants to frequent the patio, seeking the crumbs that inevitably fell. But, Friday realized, ants usually stream to and fro, taking food back to the colony. These ants had come and stayed, waiting for Sam Wilson, presumably.

And this had happened three days in a row, Friday realized. If the AI had possessed a foot, she would have kicked herself around the field.

She apologized, but Sam waved it off. "We never programmed you to alert for insect movement, but keep an eye on it from now on."

"Is this hostile action? Shall I alert the other Avengers?"

"No, this is a signal from — well, an ally, I suppose. I hope."

"The man in the woods?"

"Correct. I'm going to see what he wants. I'll holler if I get into trouble, but I think he just wants to talk. Keep an eye on me, just in case," Sam said.

He set out across the fields and, while she monitored him, Friday immediately began to research animal behavior.

Falcon might consider Ant-Man an ally, but if Rabbit Wrangler or Magpie Master sent creatures against the Avengers, Friday wanted to be able to recognize unusual behavior if it happened again.

As Sam hiked across the meadow, he became aware he had an escort. Flying ants buzzed around his head and, when he caught a glimpse of the ground through the tall grass, he could see a steady procession of black ants streaming toward the woods.

"The visitor is coming to meet you," Friday warned in his earpiece.

"This is really creepy, man," Sam complained aloud, resisting the impulse to swat the ant that hovered right in front of its his nose.

"Sorry about that." Ant-Man's voice preceded the man into a small clearing. Like Sam, he wasn't wearing his suit. They were just two men with earpieces they could use to call for help. That seemed fair.

Ant-Man rubbed the back of his neck, then sheepishly extended his hand to the man he had fought and beaten. "No hard feelings, I hope?"

"No, we're good," Sam said, shaking the man's hand. "Sam Wilson, though I think you knew that."

"Yeah, I did. Big fan. Your flying against those helicarriers …" Ant-Man shook his head, unable to find words. "You know, I'm really sorry about what happened the first time we met. I really needed that gizmo to save the world. Honest."

"I believe you," Sam said, surprising Ant-Man. "We're the Avengers," Sam reminded the other man. "We heard about a crashed helicopter full of known Hydra agents and a building that imploded and a giant Thomas the Tank Engine on a suburban front lawn. Of course, it was the crazy reports of a giant ant that caught my attention. Didn't take much looking to find a picture of the little hostage's father and match it to my memory of Ant-Man's face. So Ant-Man got a name, Scott Lang."

Scott flinched, waiting for the denunciation based on his criminal record.

But Sam said, "And I thought, an electrical engineer who moonlights as a superhero might be someone worth meeting face to face instead of fist to fist."

"So you really did tell a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of mine that you wanted to meet me?" Scott asked eagerly.

And Sam answered, "Yes."

* * *

 _A/N: It's funnier if you've actually seen Ant-Man._


	7. Like Magicians

**Like Magicians**

Clint Barton sat on the new Avengers back porch watching the sunset gild the meadow grass. Birds hopped and fluttered, collecting one more mouthful of seeds or bugs to take back to the nest before dark.

Clint smiled and took out his secure, triply encrypted cellphone to call his own nest.

He caught his family just finishing dinner. Laura let Lila grab the phone first.

"I miss you, Daddy," the little girl said sadly,

"It's only for another two weeks," Clint said in reassurance. "I have to help Cap and Auntie Nat train the rookies." And he needed to learn to work with them, just in case the world needed saving again, Clint thought, but didn't say aloud. No Avenger could remain retired if needed.

"Is it nice there?" Lila asked, putting the video call on speaker so her brother and mother could hear and see.

"It's not bad," Clint said. "I'm sitting on what they call the back porch now, looking out at a field of grass and flowers." He moved the phone around so they could see the view.

"Does the porch have a swing?" Lila asked.

Clint chuckled. "No, but I'll suggest it to Cap." Maybe he'd even build them one, he mused.

"What else is there?" Cooper asked.

"It's a big building with lots of rooms and a cafeteria — kinda like your school, but with bedrooms and a really big gym.

"Is all that just for the Avengers?" Cooper asked.

"Right now," Clint agreed. "The sun's going down now and most of the staff have gone home. Just a few people in the control room and the Avengers. But during the day, there are a lot of quasi-military types running around."

Honestly, if Clint heard that cadence one more time... He was sure they did it just to annoy, as they jogged around the compound:

"Keep in step. Yes, that means you.

"We're Avengers' backup crew.

"Call us out by day or night.

"We'll be ready for the fight.

"Facing death, the chosen few.

"We're Avengers backup crew."

"What's 'quasi' mean?" Lila asked, breaking into her father's thoughts.

"'Sort of,'" Clint replied. "They're not actually in the army or navy now — though some of them used to be — but they train together like soldiers do, so they can back up the Avengers in an emergency."

"Like police?" Cooper suggested.

"That's right."

Clint and his kids talked a little longer about school and the children's activities; then Clint had to get down to the business of parenting.

"Lila, your Mom says you've been arguing about helping her," he said with fatherly sternness.

"I hate dusting," Lila said mulishly. "I'd rather do outside chores like Cooper."

Clint privately though this daughter was weird. She liked all the girly things, but drew the line at housework, yet she'd work her little behind off as long as she was outdoors.

"We've talked about his before," Clint reminded her. "You're not big enough yet to carry buckets of feed like Cooper does."

Lila's brother puffed up his chest in pride. Lila made a face at him. Clint laughed.

"I'll tell you what, if you help with the dusting without arguing, I'll tell your mother to let you help weed the vegetable garden."

She was old enough now to not pull up the seedlings with the weeds, like she did when she was three.

"Yay!" Lila ran off to tell her mother, though Laura was just in the kitchen and could hear the whole conversation just fine.

Clint gestured at Cooper to take the phone off speaker.

"Coop, you know Mr. Hendricks will give you as many apples as you want. You shouldn't steal them."

Cooper was astounded. He knew no one had seen him take the apples. That had been the point of the game, playing secret agent like his father.

He might be good at sneaking around, but he didn't know how to dispose of the evidence yet. When his mother had emptied the kitchen wastebasket, she'd seen the distinctive blush pink apple cores in the outside trashcan and deduced the theft. And she reported it to Clint via text.

"I want you to go apologize to Mr. Hendricks and offer to work to repay him." That would mean loading the cider-pressing machine, probably, which was kinda fun, actually.

Cooper couldn't meet his father's eyes in the video call. He hated to disappoint his Dad.

"OK," he agreed repentantly. "I'm sorry. I was just playing spy."

"I understand. Mr. Hendricks will probably understand, too. He was a boy once. But no more stealing, OK?"

Cooper agreed, but then couldn't contain his curiosity.

"But how did you know? You're all the way in New York!" he burst out.

Like magicians, parents never reveal their secrets. Clint's eyes twinkled.

"Son, I'm Hawkeye. I see better from a distance."


	8. The Tortoise and the Hare

_A/N: Sorry I_ _'m late today. I went to a gardening class._

* * *

 **The Tortoise and the Hare**

"Out of the way! Out of the way!" Sam Wilson raced at full tilt, his nemesis charging behind him, gaining ground with each super-powered stride.

Gasping for breath, sweat soaking the back of his gray T-shirt, the Avenger ran with single-minded resolve. Sam's eyes were laser focused on the back porch. He was determined to get there first, despite the other Avengers who stood in his way. Behind him, Steve Rogers covered the ground like an express train, seeming to fly down the path to headquarters. Steve was making up ground, but Sam was going to beat him to the porch — if the other Avengers would just move!

Natasha dived aside in a graceful roll. Rhodey jumped backwards, pulling the astonished Wanda with him. Vision simply levitated skyward, allowing his wheezing comrade to pass beneath. Sam staggered to a stop, clutching the edge of the railing, swinging back and forth before half-collapsing to a seat on the step. Steve came to a more controlled halt mere inches behind his friend.

Breathless but grinning, Sam pointed at Steve who held up his hands in good-natured surrender. "You win."

"What is this?" Wanda asked, bewildered.

"You haven't seen it before?" Natasha asked, calmly dusting herself off. "Rogers and Wilson like to run together, but Rogers is so much faster, he had to take a handicap."

"He has to run the track through the woods four times to Sam's one," Rhodey added. "And Cap still usually beats him."

"Competitive much?" Nat asked, quirking an eyebrow at their leader. Not even winded, Steve just shrugged and smiled.

"But this time, this time I was first to the finish line," Sam wheezed in triumph.

"You're getting faster," Steve agreed. "Good work."

From his seat on the ground, Sam held up his hand and Steve high-fived him.

A delivery truck pulled up to the back. A former SHIELD agent who'd lost one arm battling Hydra at the Triskelion began unloading groceries for the kitchen. He waved his prosthetic hand at Cap.

"Thanks for your help back there, Captain," he said, not seeing Steve's gesture to be quiet." I'd never have gotten the tire changed in all that mud, if you hadn't lifted up the truck for me."

Steve hung his head. Sam's face fell.

"Cap gave you a hand?" Natasha asked innocently, always willing to stir the pot.

"He did," the former agent agreed. "He must've heard me cussing. He came out of the woods and lifted the wheel out of this huge pothole. Then he held it while I switched tires."

"How long would you estimate that the captain acted as your car jack, Mr. Robeson?" Vision asked politely. Details were always important to his computerized mind, and he didn't mind teasing his comrades.

"Nearly fifteen minutes while I wrestled one wheel off and the other on. I'm not as fast as I used to be," the former agent said.

"Fifteen minutes?" Sam groaned.

"At least," the deliveryman said, giving Cap an admiring look for his strength and his kindness.

Rhodey clapped Sam on his shoulder. Better luck next time, he consoled his teammate.

Sam gave Steve a dirty look, as if the super soldier had cheated by neglecting to mention his detour.

"I think I'll just take another lap," Steve decided. "Care to join me, Sam?"

Sam made a face, and Steve took that as a "no." Trying desperately not to laugh until he was out of sight, the Super Soldier shot off into the woods again.

Sam groaned. "I thought I had him."

"But you did," Vision said. "You clearly beat him by several inches."

"But Cap made a fifteen-minute detour," Rhodey reminded Vision.

"That should not matter," Vision said. "There is a fable about a tortoise and a hare. The point of it is not that the hare could have won if he hadn't taken a detour, but that the tortoise won by sticking to his goal and NOT being distracted."

Wanda nodded. "And by that standard, Sam won the race."

Sam brightened again. "I won."

"That's fine," Natasha said dryly, as she turned to go inside. "If you want to be a tortoise. I thought you wanted to be a Falcon. Falcon's need to be at the firing range in 30."

Sam heaved himself off the step and jogged toward the shower. "I am a Falcon," he vowed, then he grinned. "And I won."

Because Cap said so, and Cap never lied.


	9. Competitive Much?

_A/N: Last week's story inspired this one._

 **Competitive Much?**

As a boy, Steve Rogers enjoyed competition, but hardly ever got to play. Sports almost invariably made his asthma act up, until the other kids refused to play with him. Some were disgusted with his weakness (and made a point of saying so), but many of the others were just worried about Steve, afraid he'd drop dead at their feet. Even his best pal Bucky Barnes wouldn't let Steve play an organized game, though the two of them would kick a ball around or play pitch and catch for hours — as long as Steve let Bucky do all the ball chasing. Steve assuaged his sports passion by rooting fiercely for his hometown Dodgers. (And even that led to coughing fits sometimes.)

Young Steve's competition was limited to more sedentary games. Some of his fondest memories were of playing checkers or that new board game Monopoly with Bucky and his younger sister Rebecca.

Now Steve was all grown up and healthy — more than healthy — and still no one wanted to play with him!

His serum-enhance muscles gave him an unfair advantage in sports — and in videogames, too. You might beat him for a while with a new game, but once he was familiar with the controller, his hand-eye coordination made him a consistent winner.

Trivia games evened the score for a time, because Steve had missed so much, but he never forgot an answer once he heard it, so eventually he had all the answers memorized without even trying. Tony Stark kept buying special editions of Trivial Pursuit to stay ahead of Steve.

Games of strategy became equally annoying to anyone playing against Steve. He was the man with the plan. Games like chess or Risk or even Monopoly — Steve could not help thinking six moves ahead.

One game of Pictionary had become one of Sam Wilson's favorite memories. He and Steve had teamed up against Tony and Rhodey. As engineers, Tony and Rhodey were fair draftsmen. Sam also had some drafting experience. But Steve was a natural cartoonist. Five quick flowing lines and everyone could see a little bird splashing in a birdbath. Best part, as far as Sam was concerned, was the delight on Steve's face. This was a pure Steve talent, nothing to do with Cap's enhancements.

"Wish they'd had this game when I was a kid," Steve said.

"Then you wouldn't have had any friends," Tony grumped.

Sam rolled his eyes. He was happy to be Steve's friend, no matter how many games he lost to the Super Soldier. He might require a handicap to keep from hearing "on your left" too many times, but he just liked hanging out with Steve, the definitive nice guy. Sam was a good-natured man. He didn't mind losing to Steve at strategy games, because he learned so much. Cap was always willing to explain his plan, sometimes even while they were playing (which was a little like hearing "on your left.")

But it wasn't fun for Steve to always have an unfair advantage, either. It made him feel bad to trounce his friends. He'd never forgotten what it was like to be trounced regularly. So Sam was always looking for games to level the playing field.

Hence the scene that Tony was gawking at on the back porch of the new Avengers headquarters. Sam, Steve, Vision and Wanda were sitting at a table drawing cards to play:

"Candyland?" Tony said in disbelief.

"I thought you liked Candyland," Steve said. "Isn't that what you called your lab when you were trying to recruit Bruce?"

"That was a metaphor," Tony argued. "But this is a kid's game."

Sam shrugged. "I picked it up at a garage sale," he said.

"It's pure luck," Wanda said. "Super Soldiers and androids do not have an advantage over us normal people."

Sam snorted at Wanda calling herself normal.

"And even if I tried to read the others' minds — which I would not — it would do me no good," Wanda finished.

"But … Candyland?" Tony said plaintively.

"It is a pleasant, relaxing way to spend time with friends," Vision said. "I believe the term is 'harmless fun.'"

Wanda squealed, as she reached the finish of Candyland. The others congratulated her on her win. Steve began packing up the game.

"Stick around, Stark," he said. "We're playing Trouble next."

"The Pop-o-matic is so clever," Wanda confided to Vision.

Tony grinned and rubbed his hands. "Now you're talking, Trouble is my middle name."

"I would have guessed that," Sam agreed.


	10. A Matter of Trust

_A/N: I apologize for posting a day late, but I was busy buying a car yesterday. Even with an expedited program, it took all morning._

* * *

 **A Matter of Trust**

Steve Rogers sat at a table on the Avengers back porch, making entries in a large ledger. Two manila file folders lay on the table beside him and he periodically referred to the papers inside.

"Would it not be more efficient to do that on a computer?" Vision asked politely, as the android Avenger emerged from the building.

"I'm still a little old-fashioned," the man out of time said good-naturedly. "And I don't like to use Avengers' resources for personal projects."

"The expense would be minimal," Vision assured him. "Or you could get a personal computer if you do not wish to use the Avengers' equipment."

"You're missing the point, Vizh. This is … personal."

Vision understood that the project must relate to the hunt for the captain's long lost friend, the former Winter Soldier. "Perhaps I am prejudiced," the android said gently. "But I think that the search for your friend would be facilitated by using computers. I would be glad to volunteer my time to assist you."

Steve sighed and folded his arms over his paperwork. "It's not that Sam and I don't use computers. I'm not as backwards as some people believe. But this material relates to my childhood and youth, to places Bucky might be drawn to. I may be the only person alive that remembers these things and I don't want them to become public knowledge. I don't want it in the computer."

"I can guarantee its privacy," Vision offered.

"Can you tell me what the computer says about tomorrow's training schedule?" Steve asked Vision, seeming to change the subject.

"Of course. Do you wish me to recount the timeline?" Steve waved the offer away.

"Can you read this?" Steve asked, holding up a manila folder stuffed with papers.

"Not without opening the folder and perusing the documents visually," Vision confirmed.

"And that's the way I like it. See, I knew a guy once who put his mind in a computer for safekeeping. He tried to take over the world. I knew another guy, made a computer with a sentient mind. It tried to take over the world. I've had some bad experiences, so there are some things I like to keep out of the computers."

"Do you not trust me, captain?" Vision asked curiously. He didn't sound offended, but as if it was one of several multiple-choice possibilities.

"Not what I meant," Steve answered. "You proved yourself in battle. You're one of us now."

"And yet you keep secrets."

"We're all entitled to some privacy," Steve pointed out.

Vision's lips quirked in amusement. "I could simply read your mind, to find out what is in those files," he pointed out.

Steve returned the smile. "Or you could tear the lock off the filing cabinet with your bare hands and read the files. But I don't think you'll violate my privacy."

"Then you do trust me," Vision said, as Steve began shuffling his papers neatly into the file folder.

"Of course," Steve said matter-of-factly. "You're an Avenger. But of the three sentient computers I've met, you're the only one who hasn't tried to kill me. It's not a matter of not trusting you. It's a matter of not trusting everyone who might be able to link with a computer."

"A sad position, but understandable," Vision admitted. "Thank you for this enlightening conversation, captain." He started back inside.

"Thank you for trying to help," Steve answered.

"If I come across any information about Sgt. Barnes, I will inform you."

"I know you will," Steve said. "I trust you."

And now Vision understood what a gift that was.


	11. A Vision of Pain

_A/N: I confess I haven't finished this yet. I expect it to run 2 or 3 chapters and will, eventually, end up on the back porch. If you missed my late story last Saturday, I posted a standalone Halloween story set in this same Back Porch universe. It was called Mission: Costume._

* * *

 **A Vision of Pain, Part 1**

So this is pain, Vision thought, as he collapsed to the ground. Clear, silver-flecked vital fluid leaked from a gaping gash in his abdomen.

Analytical, even in agony, Vision wondered why he was gasping, because he didn't technically need to breathe the way humans did. But his android body had been built to a human model, so it had responses he didn't always expect.

He had always considered it was the damage itself that caused wounded humans to collapse. He hadn't realized the pain itself was so debilitating.

Vision tried to rise. He tried to protect the young people trapped in their mangled school van, but pain shot through him, short-circuiting his reflexes. His limbs flopped helplessly.

* * *

The trouble began with monsters. They were based on dinosaurs but genetically modified with armored hides and fearsome teeth, claws and horns.

Two triceratops stomped like tanks through the streets, lashing spikes tails and skewering cars with eight-foot-long horns. They were the forerunners of an armored T-Rex that had wicked claws on its muscular arms and curved fangs like a sabertooth.

Falcon and War Machine buzzed the rampaging four-legged monsters, while Vision, Scarlet Witch and Captain America took on the T-Rex.

Black Widow ran ahead of the monsters, warning civilians and chasing them to safety.

At first, the Avengers tried to contain the monsters. They had been stolen (why?) from the original creators (again, why?) by animal activists who lost control of the beasts. Both the activists and the scientists demanded that the Avengers not hurt the "innocent, frightened animals."

The Avengers gave it a try. They attempted to protect the civilians while corralling the creatures, but the monsters weren't buying it.

"Vision, Maximoff, see if you can calm those creatures down," Cap ordered.

* * *

Wanda focused on one of the triceratops while Vision aimed a beam of golden light at the head of the T-Rex.

The triceratops shook its head violently. The curling red tendrils that circled its head just seemed to drive it wild. It lunged and bucked, trampling on empty taxis and crashing through the barred window of a jewelry store.

Wanda instantly stopped her efforts. "Their minds are tiny and full of hate. My touch simply makes it angrier," she reported.

"I find the same, captain," Vision contributed. "Perhaps I can overpower the creature."

He hovered closer, intensifying the beam from the mind stone. Any thinking creature would have been pacified, but the T-Rex had no thoughts, only instincts.

It roared and lashed out with its enhanced arm, longer and much stronger than a true T-Rex's. The blow sent Vision flying down a side street. The android crashed into a school van that was trying to escape the battle zone. The android's body made a dent in the side of the fan and toppled it on its side. The cheerleaders inside screamed at the crash, but then began working as a team to try to free themselves from the mangled metal.

"Vision, are you all right?" Cap asked urgently.

"I am undamaged," the Avenger replied calmly, as he climbed out of the android-shaped dent in that twisted the frame of the van. "The creature's claws could not penetrate my skin."

"Good to know," Steve answered. "Get those kids to safety while I distract the T-Rex."

* * *

At the same time, Natasha was observing the triceratops that Wanda had attacked. She saw it was bleeding. It had impaled itself on one of the security bars when it crashed through the store window. Every move it made trying to free itself drove the spike deeper until, with a great gush of blood, the creature collapsed.

Natasha reported that the abdomen was less well armored than the back. "This one's down and we can take the other one out," she told Cap.

"Do it. No more fooling around," Steve ordered.

"Falcon, go help Cap," Natasha ordered. "Rhodes, Maximoff, you're with me."

Cap thought it was nice to have a second-in-command who could take command. That wasn't in the spy's original skill set, but she had learned well and gave orders with confidence. She said she just liked bossing men around.

* * *

Vision stood on the uppermost side of the van and wrenched off the door he had dented. He reached down. "Let me help you," he told the young faces looking up at him.

"Megan, Kendry, you go first," one girl instructed.

Vision wondered why the two bigger girls were first, but he lifted them out, one clinging to each hand, and knelt on the van to set them safely on the ground. Then he turned to the others. When he lifted out the third and fourth girls, they said to get the others, because they could get down themselves. One stepped confidently off the van and was caught with practiced skill by Megan and Kendry. The fourth girl duplicated her feat. Vision was impressed by their teamwork.

When he pulled the next girl out, she said, "Mrs. Wilkins and Mr. Parks are trapped."

Vision could see the twisted metal prevented the adults from escaping from the two front seats, though his mental scan showed no serious injuries.

"I will get them as soon as you girls are out," Vision promised.

"Thank you," she said, them dropped off the van into her teammate's arms.

They worked together as well as the Avengers, maybe better, the android mused.

Then he heard Cap's voice shout a warning. "Vision!"

* * *

Sam immediately zoomed to the T-Rex, flitting around its head and firing his machine pistols at its eyes.

"Don't get too close," Cap warned. "You're not made of vibranium like Vision."

"Roger that, Rogers," Sam said cheerfully.

"You have been hanging around Barton too much," Cap said with mock severity.

"Birds of a feather," Natasha commented with an audible smirk.

Steve tried flinging his shield at the T-Rex belly, but, unlike its ground-hugging companions, the upright dinosaur was fully armored fore and aft. The shield rebounded. The dinosaur snapped at Cap, who dodged behind it, only to see the tail lashing toward him. He got his shield up just in time to block, but the impact sent the Super Soldier pinwheeling through one side of a corner drugstore and out the other.

"Are you all right?" Sam called.

"I feel … invigorated," Steve said ironically, as fluorescent green sports drink dripped from his red, white and blue uniform.

"You look gaudy," Rhodes offered.

"I was going to day 'ridiculous,'" Natasha countered.

"Always such a sweet-talker," Steve said.

Then turning serious, Natasha ordered Wanda to snare the triceratops. "See if you can give me and War Machine a shot at the belly."

Bands of scarlet energy immediately wove around the front feet of the remaining triceratops. With a flip of her hands, Wanda tossed the dino on its back. War Machine immediately opened fire with his machine gun, while Natasha added carefully placed shots from her pistol. The monster screamed, struggled momentarily against its bonds and then died as quickly and mercifully as the heroes could manage.

When they were sure it was dead, they stood down. As they turned to see if Cap and Falcon needed help, they heard a blood-chilling scream from a throat that was never meant to scream.

* * *

Sam buzzed the T-Rex again, aiming at those beady little eyes. The dino stretched its neck to try to catch the pesky hero. Cap saw some of the neck scales lift up, exposing a band of skin. He instantly launched his shield at the tiny target. The weapon bit deep into the vulnerable spot, but not deep enough to kill.

The T-Rex roared in pain and anger. Sam made a foot-first pass, trying to stomp the shield in deeper, but the monster's heavy head swung and knocked the Falcon from the skies.

Steve leaped to catch his friend before he crashed on his back. They rolled to a halt, fetching up against a mangled SUV.

"Phew, nice catch!" Sam complimented his leader.

The two were still in a tangled heap when the T-Rex's flailing arm tore the shield free and sent it flying. Right at Vision.

The android had torn a door off the uppermost side of the van and was lifting the girls out. When he heard shouts of warning, he instantly placed himself between the civilians and danger. He was confident the dinosaurs could not damage him.

But one thing can punch a hole in vibranium — more vibranium.

The spinning disk hit a glancing blow, slicing a deep gash in his side. Vision screamed and fell off the van to lie twitching and helpless on the street near the girls he'd rescued.

* * *

Bleeding from the deep gash in its armored neck, the monster's attention was attracted by the convulsing android. Then its eyes turned to the girls who were trying to free their friends who were still trapped in the van, like hors d'oeuvres in a can.

It took one step toward the cheerleaders, jaws gaping open to snatch a meal.

Cap saw red.

He vaulted up the dinosaur's back in two bounds. He dug his knees into the beast's shoulders and grabbed the massive jaw. Steve Rogers had felt a little sick when Natasha demonstrated how to use this move against an opponent. He could all too easily picture Cap twisting a man's head clear off. But against this mindless monster, Steve didn't have a qualm.

Helped by the gash in the armored hide, Cap used every ounce of power in his enhanced muscles and wrenched the T-Rex's head around until the neck snapped. The beast fell headlong as Cap leaped free.

He rolled to his feet, snatching up his shield at he went, just and the heavy head slammed down where it had been.

Everyone stared at the Super Soldier standing over his monstrous prey in righteous fury.

"Well … damn!" Sam said, impressed.

Then the moment snapped as a spark of electricity made Vision's body shudder again.

Cap dropped to his knees beside his fallen comrade. Guilt filled the Avengers' leader when he saw the silvery fluid running from the android's body — the same fluid staining his shield.

His weapon. His fault.

Cap pressed his hands firmly against the wound and called for help.

* * *

 **To be continued**


	12. A Vision of Pain, part 2

**A Vision of Pain**

 **Part 2**

The injured android writhed and groaned, seeming unaware of his surroundings.

Captain America pressed his hands firmly against Vision's wound and called for help.

"Maximoff, see if you can do something about his pain," Steve ordered. The Super Soldier knew too much about pain that couldn't be relieved by medication. "Rhodes, get those girls out of that bus."

"On it," Rhodey answered. War Machine flew over to raise two girls to safety, then tore away twisted metal that had the driver and cheer director pinned in, though, fortunately, they were not badly injured. As he worked, he said, "I'm calling Tony."

"Good idea," Natasha said. Of the five beings that had brought Vision to life, only Stark and Helen Cho were available in this emergency.

Natasha joined Cap in trying to do first aid on a being they'd never practiced first aid on. "Complacent," she chided herself under her breath, forgetting about Cap's enhanced hearing.

"Arrogant and unprepared," Cap agreed, taking the blame fully on himself.

Natasha nudged his shoulder with hers. "Not your fault," she said.

"My team. My weapon. My fault," Steve said heavily, disagreeing.

"So dramatic," Natasha chided, sounding exactly like Peggy Carter.

Steve shifted his hands, trying to keep more vital fluids from escaping.

Vision's body bucked and he made a strangled sound of protest.

"Wanda!" Steve ordered — or begged.

"I'm trying," the woman replied. The Scarlet Witch knelt by Vision, one hand on either side of his head. Swirls of crimson energy twined between her fingers and his temples. Golden light flashed from Vision's mind gem, pushing the crimson away. Wanda redoubled her efforts.

"He thinks I am attacking him," she panted.

The yellow light weakened, then the scarlet bands overwhelmed it.

"Vision, it's me. Let me in," Wanda urged. "I can help."

Vision recognized the voice and the mental signature of his fellow Avenger. "Wanda?" he murmured. He stopped trying to block Wanda's energy. She in turn set a barrier against his pain.

The android opened his eyes with a feeble sigh of relief. The pain wasn't entirely gone, but it seemed farther away and easier to bear.

"That was unexpected," he commented faintly.

Before any of the Avengers could answer him, one of the cheerleaders knelt beside him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said. "We'll pray for you."

She ran to join her group, which was hiking to where they could get transportation out of the combat zone they'd been caught in.

"Also unexpected," Vision said.

"How do you feel?" Natasha asked.

"Helpless," the android answered. "I am weakening, but do not seem in immediate danger of complete shut down."

"Good to know," Sam commented. He patted Vision's shoulder. "You try to relax buddy. Save your strength. Cho and Stark will fix you right up."

"The probability would seem high," Vision agreed. Sam's instructions seemed sound, so Vision closed his eyes and tried to rest, tried to ignore the hands on him, binding his wound.

"Can we get air transport in here?" Steve asked Natasha.

Sam answered, "There's no place to land a chopper or a quinjet."

"I can carry him to the jet," Rhodey offered. Wanda could levitate Vision more gently, but progress would be slow if she also had to concentrate on blocking his pain.

"Do it," Steve said. "Sam, take Wanda."

War Machine gently lifted the bandaged Vision while Falcon scooped up Scarlet Witch. The two airmen flew off in formation, trying not to jostle their living cargo.

Steve sank back on his haunches, looking dazed now that he wasn't focused on first aid. Natasha nudged him.

"Come on, Rogers. The kids are leaving without us."

Steve shook his head like a dog shedding water, then sprang to his feet. He started toward the jet at a flat out run. When Natasha couldn't keep up, he grabbed her in his arms and kept running, bounding over chunks of debris and vaulting smashed automobiles.

She sighed. "I was going to commandeer a motorcycle, but I guess this works."

* * *

Vision's condition remained stable on the short flight to Avengers headquarters. With Scarlet Witch walking alongside and the rest of the Avengers crowding behind, War Machine carried the android off the jet and gently lowered him into Dr. Helen Cho's rebuilt Cradle.

"I will try not to break it this time," Vision told the doctor breathlessly.

She smiled and patted his hand while she studied the readings on the many instruments built into the healing device. The Avengers all worried when she frowned.

"You can fix him, can't you?" Steve asked anxiously. He'd seen her repair much worse injuries, but the android was a special case. It pained Steve to see his teammate incapacitated. Vision was so wise and yet so innocent. After all, he was barely a year old. He didn't deserve this.

Helen was unusually hesitant. "I can help him," she said finally. "But I can't complete repairs without a source of vibranium. It is an essential element for his … structure."

Steve caught his breath. The only vibranium he knew of was in his shield. The weapon was practically part of him now. It was a link to his long lost past. If they took part of it, it would never be as perfectly balanced as it was now, but it was only right that the weapon that injured Vision be used to heal him. Steve opened his mouth to make the sacrifice.

"I have 60 grams," another voice said first.

Steve's mouth snapped shut in surprise, as Iron Man clomped into the lab. He pulled two vials out of a compartment in his armor. One held silvery granules and the other a gray dust that sparkled as the light hit it.

Tony Stark flipped open the face plate and continued, "Thirty grams are powdered and the rest is in nuggets, but we can melt it down. However you need it. And I can get more, if necessary. That's just all I had on hand."

Tony sounded anxious. Vision was partly Jarvis and Jarvis had meant a lot to Tony.

Helen snatched the vial of powdered vibranium, staring at the glittering dust with marveling admiration.

"This will be perfect," she said breathlessly. "We just need enough to enable his own cells to bond."

She emptied the dust into the nutrient intake, along with the proteins, minerals and other materials needed to heal a fully organic being. Then the doctor activated the Cradle.

Wanda kept her magic going until the coffin-like Cradle closed, then she released her spell. She sagged against the equipment and Sam put an arm around her to steady her.

"He's asleep now," she said with relief.

"Tony, where did you get vibranium?" Steve asked curiously. He rubbed his shield unconsciously, relieved that he hadn't needed to give up a piece of it to help the android but feeling guilty for his relief.

"Not now," Tony said, watching the Cradle readouts intently.

"But …"

"Later, Rogers," Tony said firmly. But he cast a sidelong glance at Wanda that made the Sokovian bristle with deep suspicion.

Where had he gotten the rare metal?

Both Steve and Wanda were willing to wait until they knew more about Vision's condition, but Wanda in particular had noted Tony's evasive reply. She kept a wary eye on the industrialist, while he kept a knowledgeable eye on the Cradle.

Helen muttered to herself, making minute adjustments to the equipment. The rest watched in tense silence.

After 15 interminable minutes, both Helen and Tony began to relax.

"It's working," the doctor said simply. "His systems are repairing themselves. The wound is closing. The Vision will be fine, thanks to your vibranium," Mr. Stark.

"Good to know," Tony said gruffly.

"Good job, Tony," Rhodey said. The Air Force officer lightly punched his friend's shoulder. "Good thing you had some vibranium lying around," he said.

"I thought we might need it someday, to repair Vision or Cap's shield," Tony answered absently, his thoughts seeming far away, perhaps inside the Cradle with Vision.

"And you were right," Steve said heavily. "I'm grateful we didn't need to melt my shield, but I'm surprised you had some. Was it leftover from Ultron's stockpile?"

There was no accusation in Cap's weary voice, only curiosity. He wondered what report he'd missed, or what report Tony had neglected to file. But Tony saw the distrust in Wanda's eyes.

Reluctantly he answered Steve, "I have a mine."

"In Wakanda?" Steve said in disbelief. The African country believed in absolute isolation.

"No," Tony said shortly. He cast a sidelong glance at Wanda and saw her glaring back at him. He sighed, then ripped off the bandage and said, "In a way it was Ultron's. I got it from Sokovia."

"So, again you are making a profit out of the destruction of my homeland!" Wanda snarled. Her hands began to glow blood red.

* * *

 **To be continued**


	13. A Vision of Pain, part 3

**A Vision of Pain**

 **Part 3**

Scarlet Witch's hands began to glow blood red with her arcane power. Tony Stark's face plate snapped down and Iron Man's repulsors began to power up in reply.

They faced each other across the Cradle, where their teammate Vision was being healed. The medical staff was about to see more patients.

"Enough!" a voice snapped.

The surprise was, it wasn't Captain America who stepped between the two combatants, it was Black Widow.

"This is not the time or the place," she said angrily. "Take it somewhere else!"

Shaking himself out of his gloomy, remorseful thoughts, Cap belatedly moved to put himself between the potential combatants and the Cradle. He pulled Dr. Cho behind him, too. But he didn't interrupt his second-in-command.

Wanda started to say something.

"Save it," Natasha ordered.

"I know we're all upset because Vision was injured," Steve said. "But there's no reason to take it out on each other."

"Let's leave the doctor to work in peace and quiet." Natasha started for the door. When no one immediately followed, she swept them all with a cold glance. "I'll only ask politely once."

Tony turned away from Wanda abruptly and walked out of the medical room, then walked out of his Iron Man armor, leaving it standing as if on guard outside the medical room door. Tony kept walking until he reached the back porch, deserted because of the late hour. He sat down heavily on a bench and rubbed his eyes.

The others had trailed behind him, as if he was leading a parade. Rhodey had also shed his armor and Falcon had left his wings on the jet, but no one else stopped to change. Everyone felt the need to stick together — for comfort or self-defense; it was hard to tell which.

Scarlet Witch was no longer summoning her powers, but she still glared daggers at Stark. Rhodey wished she wouldn't jump to the worst conclusion, but he knew Tony's shifty glance had made her suspicious. He also knew that the glance was because Tony felt terrible guilt about what happened to Sokovia.

Without looking at any of the other Avengers, Tony began to talk.

"Vibranium has never been found anywhere but Wakanda," he said. "Probably it came from space in the form of a huge meteorite. It hasn't been found anywhere else on Earth — until now, and for the same reason. Ultron's meteorite.

Wanda inhaled sharply, as she began to understand.

"All that vibranium melted," Tony continued. "There are veins and nuggets all through the rubble, along with other metals, like lead and iron."

"So you decided to make a profit out of the destruction," Wanda spat.

"Listen, witchy," Tony snarled back. "Your homeland is toxic. All the metals and plastics burned and melted together in a poisonous pile of rubble that used to be your capital city.

"I'm paying for a mining and reclamation company to sort out the mess. I'm paying for it, but all the employees are Sokovian, people who didn't want to leave their homeland no matter how decimated it is. People who want to prevent the toxic rubble from contaminating the rivers and killing the forests.

"All I take is the vibranium — not for myself, but for my friends!" He gestured back toward the medical wing. "The rest of the profits go to the employees and the reclaimed materials go to rebuilding Sokovia." He slammed his fist on a table. "I make a mess, I clean it up!"

"You pay others to clean it up," Wanda retorted. It was exactly what Rhodey was thinking, but he would have said it with affectionate humor, not with bitterness.

Tony just shrugged and nodded.

To say that Wanda Maximoff had ambivalent feelings about Tony Stark would be understating the matter. On one hand, he just saved her friend Vision. On the other, the weapons he made had killed her parents. He had saved the world from Ultron's meteor, but had destroyed her birth city to do it.

Sam Wilson, trained counselor, sensed her indecision. "He means well," Sam offered.

"That is not always enough," Wanda answered tartly. "But his actions saved Vision, so I will concentrate on that and let the rest go — for now."

"Works for me," Tony said dryly.

Tension eased out of the rest of the Avengers, leaving weariness in its wake. They dropped into seats around the patio.

Reminded of his failure, Steve just stood, looking back at the medical wing. Natasha frowned at him, but he didn't seem to see.

Sam nervously tugged at Steve's arm. Lost in gloomy thought, the Super Soldier let himself be guided, walking like a zombie, then he let Sam aim him at a chair

Tony sensed undercurrents, though he didn't understand them.

"How'd Vision get hurt, anyway?" he asked. "I'd have thought his vibranium skin would have protected him from mere monsters."

"Tony, leave it," Rhodey told his old friend, but his worried eyes were on Cap, who sat with his head in his hands while Sam talked to him in a low voice.

"What's got his panties in a bunch?" Tony asked Rhodey.

"Friendly fire," Rhodey sighed. "It was his shield that wounded Vision."

"What the hell, Rogers!" Tony exclaimed. "Can't you control your spinning wheel of death?"

Sam leaped to his friend's defense. "It was an accident," he declared. He was the only one besides Cap who'd seen what happened. "Steve hit the T-Rex, but the creature pulled the shield out and threw it away — right at Vision. Vision was trying to free some girls from a wreck, so he couldn't dodge, even if he'd had time. It wasn't anyone's fault. It was just bad luck."

The others nodded, they'd all seen bad luck in battle, but Steve shook his head. "My weapon. My fault."

"Stop saying that," Sam ordered.

"I'm in charge, Sam. It's my responsibility."

"No," Sam said firmly. "It was the monster that hurt Vision. Ultimately, it was the fault of the people that made the monster and the ones that set it loose."

The others nodded.

"And in the end it doesn't matter," Natasha said. "If you failed — and I say 'if,' — the rest of us were there to pick up the pieces. Tony brought the vibranium to save Vision's life. He's going to be fine. And we'll all learn from this incident, OK?"

Steve dredged up a smile from somewhere. "I haven't been much help, have I? Thanks for taking over, Natasha. It's nice to have a second-in-command who can take command."

It was funny how the solo agent had taken to the military-style job.

"Maybe I just like ordering men around, Rogers," she smirked.

"No doubt about that," Sam muttered, then yelped when Natasha threw an (inactivated) Widow's Bite at him.

Everyone laughed and the tension among the Avengers, finally, finally!, ebbed away. Everyone was still alive. Vision would be OK. Sam and Nat high-fived when no one else was looking. Their team was still intact.

* * *

After he was released from the medical wing, Vision went immediately to the back porch. The warm breeze, the birds, the world continuing its natural cycle beyond the compound, restored his spirit. Life went on and he was part of it still. It was satisfying.

Steve Rogers sat on the step beside him.

"I'm sorry you were injured by my actions."

"I am not," Vision said, surprising Cap. "It is one thing to know about pain academically, but another to experience it. I have a better appreciation of the courage of our companions, because I have a greater understanding now of pain and fear — and the bravery required to face those things again."

"Don't forget caution," Cap said.

"Sir?"

"I hope you will be more cautious now that you know you're not invincible," Cap said (rather hypocritically, Vision thought, since Steve was inclined to risk his life for others).

But the android answered, "Yes, I understand that the Avengers rely on my abilities."

Steve shook his head. "That's not what I said. We don't want to lose you."

Vision gained a new perception. Was this friendship? He thought it must be. Vision curved the corners of his mouth into a smile — and Steve smiled back.

Remarkable!

* * *

 _A/N: I might have more to this — more about Wanda and Tony, in particular — but not right now. Holiday stories, and those darn Avengers Christmas songs, are tugging at my muse._


	14. Something to Be Thankful For

_A/N: My Thanksgiving story turned out to be the next story in the Wanda/Tony saga._

* * *

 **Something to Be Thankful For**

The new Avengers sat at their conference table making plans for Thanksgiving. Natasha Romanoff was going to the Bartons, to finally see her namesake in the flesh. Sam Wilson had a big family that was gathering at his aunt's this year.

But the rest of the team had nowhere special to be and no one special to be with. It was a little sad that their only family was their work friends, but Steve tried to encourage a family feeling, at least for the holiday.

He fostered a discussion about favorite dishes, to see if anything should be added to the catered dinner. And, if anyone wanted to cook or bake, Steve was all for it. Call it team building. Call it family feeling. Remember, Steve Rogers doesn't have anyone outside the Avengers, either. Except Bucky, and he can't bear to think about Bucky right now.

Steve was planning to bake his mother's apple pie, the one she'd made with bruised, discounted apples, carefully hoarded sugar and the cinnamon that Mrs. Barnes gave her for her birthday every year. Nowadays, Steve could easily afford to buy the best of everything he needed at the market, but memories of the extra effort exerted for the holiday made this pie particularly sweet.

Maria Hill also planned to bake, though a boxed cookie mix might be involved. None of the others had ever had much of a chance to practice cooking. James Rhodes had gone from college to the military. Wanda Maximoff had been orphaned young and grew up on the streets. Vision, well, Vision was barely a year old and, though his android brain could access all the recipes on the Internet, he'd never actually cooked anything himself.

Hence the catered dinner, Nat muttered to Sam, who smothered a grin.

"Nobody has to cook," Steve said patiently. He wanted to bang his head on the table because they were missing the point! "It's just a time to gather together, share a meal and be thankful for what we have."

"And what we have survived," Natasha added.

Vision nodded judiciously. "It will be a unifying experience."

Wanda gave a small smile and tipped her head in acceptance. It was not unusual for the Avengers to share a meal, but this had special meaning to her American teammates. She was willing to participate.

Steve didn't expect a problem from Rhodey, but the colonel cleared his throat. "I'd like to invite Tony," he said.

The name dropped like a silence bomb. Rhodey continued nervously but doggedly. "Pepper's mother has stage 4 cancer. This is probably her last Thanksgiving. She wants to see Pepper — but not Tony."

"Understandable," Wanda said almost inaudibly, except for the android and Super Soldier ears nearby.

Though no one else heard her, all eyes turned to see her opinion of inviting Tony Stark to sit at the same dinner table, when she always left any room he arrived in. She kept her eyes on the far wall.

"Rhodey," Steve said awkwardly. "This is supposed to be a team dinner and Tony's not …"

"No, it's fine," Wanda interrupted abruptly. "Invite Stark. I will not cause trouble," she promised Steve. "I will eat in my room. Thanksgiving has meaning for Americans. It is not a Sokovian holiday anyway. Excuse me." She stood and walked swiftly and stiffly out of the room. She looked hurt, like a kid whose best friend decided to play with someone else.

Steve buried his face in his hands, seeing his team-building dinner turn into a team-splitting dinner. "That wasn't the point," he muttered in answer to Wanda's words, though she wasn't present to hear it.

"Maybe I should cancel…" Sam started.

"No," Steve said more forcefully than he ought to. He took a deep breath and went on more temperately. "You missed too many holidays with your family when you were deployed, Sam. Stick to your plans. You, too, Nat," he added before she could say anything. "We'll be fine. It'll be fun," he said a little bitterly. He left the meeting without even dismissing the others.

Rhodey looked guilty. "Tony's my friend," he told the remaining Avengers. "He doesn't have anyone else."

"Neither does Wanda," Vision pointed out.

* * *

Later, Rhodey sat on the back porch rubbing his hands as he watched the sky. The night was overcast, as gloomy as his mood.

"You seem troubled," Vision's quiet voice came from behind him. "May I join you?"

"Plenty of space on the steps," Rhodey said with a gesture of welcome.

Vision took a seat. "Are you still troubled by this afternoon?"

"I didn't mean to force Wanda to eat in her room like a prisoner," Rhodey said. "But I hate to think of Tony all alone, brooding about Pepper and Bruce and everything. And he is still an Avenger," he added defiantly.

"He is," Vision agreed. "He always will be an Avenger."

Rhodey nodded, satisfied that Vision understood. "See, Tony and I met when we were paired up as lab partners in college. He was a genius kid, barely high school age, but already acing college. He didn't fit in. He couldn't fit in. He was too young and too smart, and too much a smartass for his own good. But I saw the loneliness behind his bravado. We became friends and I looked out for him. To me, sometimes, he's still that lost, lonely kid."

"I understand."

"I wish Wanda did," Rhodey said. "I like her. We work well together," he sad hastily. "But Tony is one of my oldest friends. I don't like being in the middle."

"Nor do I," Vision agreed. "But if we do not stand between them, then how can we help them bridge that gap?"

Rhodey pictured a church service when hands clasped hands until everyone was connected.

"It would be easier if Wanda didn't hate Tony for destroying Sokovia."

"But she does not," Vision said, surprising his teammate. "She blames herself."

Rhodey looked doubtful.

"We have shared minds in training," Vision reminded his friend. "She blames herself for inspiring Tony to make Ultron and for helping Ultron. She hates herself for helping destroy Sokovia and kill her brother. She joined the Avengers to make amends — and because she has nowhere else to go," Vision said sadly.

"But she still acts like she hates Tony," Rhodey said doubtfully.

"She still blames him for her parents' death and for the devastating bombings when she was a child. She and Pietro were not alone in that," Vision said. "Sokovia was full of anti-Iron Man and anti-Stark sentiment, even before the attack on Strucker."

"I remember seeing the graffiti," Rhodey said. "But that wasn't Tony's fault," he said, in sudden realization. "That Stark tech as stolen!"

"Indeed?" Then Vision accessed Jarvis' memories and his eyebrows raised, as he witnessed Obadiah Stane's attack on Tony Stark. "Indeed!"

"Maybe." Rhodey paused. "Do you think she'd listen if I explained?"

"Perhaps. We can only try."

* * *

Rhodey and Vision went together to talk to Wanda. Rhodey wondered if she would let him in, but she felt bad about snubbing Rhodey. She liked James Rhodes, she just didn't like his choice of friends.

Rhodey started by making an apology for spoiling everyone's holiday plans, then explained what Tony meant to him and how long they'd been friends.

Wanda softened, hearing about the genius boy whose parents were too busy to visit him. She understood loneliness.

"I am sorry I sprang it on everyone like that," Rhodey concluded.

"It's all right, James," Wanda said. "Stark and I have a difficult history, but you are entitled to your friendship. It does not affect our working relationship," she reassured him. "And I promise to not cause any trouble on your holiday."

"I'm glad we can still be friends," Rhodey said. "But I wanted to explain. Vision says you blame Tony for selling weapons to Sokovia's enemies, weapons that killed your parents. But Tony never did that. Tony made weapons for the U.S. military. Weapons that ended up in other hands were stolen."

Wanda looked skeptical, but Rhodey told her about Obadiah Stane and his under-the-table dealings. He betrayed Tony, misappropriating weapons and selling them under the table. Even arranging for Tony to be kidnapped and killed.

"Believe me, Tony understands your shock and horror better than most," Rhodey said earnestly. "He was almost killed by a Stark bomb himself."

Rhodey went on to talk about the creation of Iron Man and Stane's ultimate fate — a secret only a few people knew.

Wanda might not have believed Tony's best friend, but Vision was able to confirm much of the information from Jarvis' memories.

"So, I'm hoping we can get past this. Make a new start," Rhodey said. "Can we start the holiday season with reconciliation?"

"You have seen Stark's mind," Vision reminded her. "You know the guilt he feels, the sense of responsibility."

"I do." She sighed. "But it is difficult to set aside the pain," she confessed.

Vision took her hand. "Please try, not just for Tony Stark and the team, but for yourself. Hate can be a debilitating emotion."

"You have been talking to Sam," she accused with a smile. "I will think about it," she promised.

The man and the android left her alone, uncertain about her decision, because she was still uncertain herself.

* * *

On Thanksgiving Day, Tony Stark arrived at the Avengers headquarters in his sports car, wearing an Armani suit over a rock'n'roll T-shirt. He carried a briefcase, as if he was coming for a day of work, instead of a party.

He met Maria Hill, wearing a blue dress with a flared skirt, setting out her tray of sugar cookies next to Steve's two apple pies. The cookies were cut in holiday shapes and decorated with Maria's meticulous attention to detail.

"Almost too pretty to eat," Tony complimented, as he took a cookie and shoved it whole into his mouth.

"Classy," Maria said. "Good evening, Mr. Stark."

"Agent Hill," Tony replied, emphasizing the "agent."

Maria just smirked at him, but he didn't notice when he spotted Rhodey, wearing an open-collared white shirt and navy suit that had been a gift from the billionaire.

"Platypus! Looking good!" Tony patted his friend's back. "Thanks for the invite."

"Good to see you, Tony." Rhodey eyed the briefcase. "You working or carrying a suit?"

"Nah. The suit will come if I need it." Tony opened the case to reveal three bottles of pricey wine and a fine bottle of brandy. "I brought the wine," he said.

"Nice, but you didn't have to."

"Yes, he did," Maria said instantly. She took out two of the bottles of white wine, which were still chilled by some Stark magic. "Thanks, Tony." She went for a corkscrew.

"Well, I made somebody happy," Tony said dryly, as Steve came up, dressed in a neat dark blue suit with a tie patterned with turkeys (feathered and cooked). It was a joke gift from Natasha. Steve thought it was better than flags. He had a dozen flag ties, all gifts from his dear friends.

Tony said to Steve, "Thanks for inviting me. I understand I'm not universally beloved here." Steve couldn't think what to say, but Tony just shrugged. "Story of my life, Rogers."

Steve squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Come on. Let's eat. You're fashionably late, as always, so the food's already on the table."

Sporting a gray suit and a red turtleneck that matched his skin tone, Vision came over from his observation post in the corner. He greeted Stark politely and took a seat next to him. Rhodey sat on Tony's other side.

Maria had poured glasses of wine for everyone and was just starting on her second glass that she would nurse through dinner. Steve held the chair for her, then took a seat beside her opposite Tony.

As they passed the serving dishes, nearly everyone took large helpings of their favorites, except Steve, who took large helpings of everything to fuel his reinforced metabolism, and Vision, who took a little bit of everything, though he didn't technically need to eat. Thanksgiving was new for him and he wanted to experience all the nuances.

As they began to eat, Steve said, "My mother and I usually shared the holidays with the Barnes family. They had a tradition where they went around the table and everybody said something they were thankful for. Bucky usually said 'comic books,'" he concluded dryly, not wanting anyone to feel pressured to be super serious.

"I'm thankful for no meteors," Tony said instantly. "No going the way of the dinosaurs."

"Good choice," Maria said. "I'm thankful for this wine. I've missed your selection of wines, since I left SI," she told Tony. "How about you, Steve? What are you thankful for?"

"Helicarriers that arrive just in time," Steve said, raising his glass to Maria who had been at the helm of that timely helicarrier.

"I'm thankful to part of this crazy crew," Rhodey said.

"I'm also thankful you have a new story to tell at parties. That tank story was getting old," Maria teased.

Everyone laughed, even Rhodey.

"How about you, Vision?" Steve asked.

Vision had been considering his answer. "I am thankful for life," he said. "My life. All life."

The others were nodding, when another voice said. "And I am grateful for a new family." Wanda stood shyly in the doorway, holding a large, steaming tureen.

Steve was instantly on his feet to take the heavy bowl. He set it in a place of honor on the table, as Maria shifted the turkey platter to one side.

"Looks delicious," Steve said. He collected bowls from a side table and dished up the vegetable soup.

"I apologize for being late," said Wanda, who was wearing a long, scarlet dress in a draping crepe fabric. "I underestimated the time my soup would take. I only made it once with my mother, when I was 7. It was a holiday tradition for our family."

"Thank you for sharing it," Vision said.

"Smells good," Tony said, approaching the woman. He took a bowl and offered Wanda a glass of wine.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Wanda said, for the compliment and the wine.

"You may call me, Tony," he suggested.

Wanda considered, then shook her head. "Not yet. Maybe someday."

"Fair enough, Ms. Maximoff." He tilted his glass. She clinked hers against it.

Ignoring a sigh of relief from around the table, they took their seats to break bread together for the first time.

Something to be thankful for, Steve thought.

* * *

 _A/N: I have seen the awesome trailer for Civil War, but I will not be going there in my stories, not until I actually see what happens in the movie, anyway. Tony and Steve will remain as friends, as we saw at the end of Age of Ultron.  
On another note, I don't know how many stories you will get between now and Christmas, but there will be songs. Many songs. They are holding my muse hostage._


	15. Top Secret Santa

_A/N: I wanted to finish this story this morning, but Christmassing interfered. And, pleae, faithful readers. No blabbing about the new Star Wars movie. I can't see it until after Christmas._

* * *

 **Top Secret Santa**

Passing Steve Rogers' office, Natasha Romanoff saw him sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. Apart from being thrown through a brick wall, Captain America didn't get headaches, though there were some people who gave him headaches.

Natasha stepped into the room. "What did Stark blow up now?" she asked, a smile twitching the corner of her lips.

"Huh?" Steve raised his head, puzzled.

"He's usually the only one who makes you squint like that," Natasha said, imitating Steve's "You're giving me a headache" expression.

"Oh, no, it's not Stark — this time."

"Then what's wrong?" Suddenly Natasha was worried it was something serious. "Is it Barnes?"

"No, no word on Bucky, either. No, Nat, it's nothing like that. I'm fine. Nothing's wrong."

"Then why the headache?" Natasha demanded.

"I can't tell you. It's classified."

"Classified!" Now Natasha slid into a chair across from Steve. "Rogers, I'm your second-in-command. You shouldn't keep secrets from me."

Steve regarded her thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose of anyone, you know how to keep a secret. Close the door. Friday, privacy mode for half an hour, please."

"Of course, captain," the artificial intelligence said in her Irish-accented voice. She shut down all surveillance and recording in the captain's office. Natasha locked the door.

"OK, what's going on," she demanded.

"I drew Vision's name in the Avengers gift exchange," Steve said.

That was so far from what Natasha expected, she gaped at him like a fish, her mouth moving silently until the penny dropped. "Oh, it's secret Santa!"

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but I don't know what to do."

"It was your idea," she pointed out.

Steve gave her a dirty look. "It was Sam's idea." Then he relented. "But I thought it was a good one. I thought it would create a team feeling."

"It is a good idea. It's nice to do things together," Natasha encouraged.

"But what do you get for the android who wants nothing," Steve complained. "He doesn't eat. He can mentally access the Internet, so he can see every movie and read almost every book. He doesn't wear clothes and he doesn't collect anything."

"You could start a collection for him. Kitty cat figurines or Avengers action figures," Natasha joked.

Steve gave her A Look.

She held up her hands in surrender. "All right. I'm sorry. No more joking. Look, you have to ask yourself, what does Vision lack?"

"What does he lack?" Steve asked. Then more thoughtfully, he said to himself, "What does he lack?" As the team leader, he already had that answer. "He lacks experience."

"So, experience," Natasha prompted. "Give him an experience." Natasha had no idea what that meant, but it sparked something in Steve's mind.

"An experience! You're a genius!" Steve swooped Natasha into a bear hug that she wouldn't have tolerated from anyone but Steve or Clint.

She pounded on his shoulder. "Let me go, Rogers. Last time I help you," she joked, straightening her clothes when he released her.

"Thanks for your help, Romanoff," Steve said formally.

She gave a mocking salute. "Any time, captain." She escaped from his office while she could.

* * *

Most of the team was relaxing after lunch when Captain America strode through in full regalia. "Vision, you're with me," he said.

The android was "wearing" jeans and a long-sleeved gray turtleneck sweater. At Steve's call, his outfit shifted to his green and yellow uniform and his cape grew down his back, flaring behind him as he jogged, then flew after the captain.

The others started to follow, but Natasha's voice stopped them.

"Cap only needs Vision. The rest of you are with me. Training grounds in 15."

She gave them a wicked smile that sent them scampering for their gear. You didn't want to keep the Black Widow waiting.

* * *

Vision levitated at speed to catch up to Cap, who was stowing his shield in the back seat of an unmarked SUV. Steve told the android to get in the passenger seat.

"What is the mission?" Vision asked politely.

"It's not a mission. It's your Secret Santa present," Steve replied. He pulled a large, colorfully wrapped box out of the back seat and handed it to Vision. It was wrapped Hollywood style, so all the android had to do was lift the lid off to see the 112 "Avengers Activity Books" inside. Each booklet was wrapped in plastic with a pack of crayons and strips of stickers. He saw his own face looking back from one of the stickers.

This did not compute.

"I'm sure I will enjoy this activity," he said hesitantly, trying to tread the narrow, slippery path between politeness and truthfulness. "But will it not become repetitive after the 111th time?"

Steve was not surprised that Vision had counted the coloring books precisely with just a momentary glimpse.

"Oh, that's not your gift," Steve said. "That's just the $20 part. (I get a discount so I can get enough for everyone for $20.) No, your gift is … an experience."

"Then what shall I do with these activity books?" Vision asked.

"If you don't know when the time comes, then you're not the hero I think you are."

* * *

After half an hour of awkwardly silent driving, Steve turned into the employee parking lot of a children's hospital and pulled into a reserved parking spot.

He put the lid back on Vision's box. "Bring that," he instructed, as he pulled on his cowl and picked up his shield. Then he led the android into the hospital.

Sure of his way, Steve merely waved at the security guard as he went straight to a playroom where children were working on puzzles as they, apparently, waited for Captain America.

"He's here!" someone said excitedly and all the kids brightened.

"Hi, kids."

"Hi, Cap!" they chorused.

"I'm going to visit the rooms first this time," Cap said, getting a disappointed groan in reply. "Don't worry, I'll be back," he promised. "In the meantime, this is my friend, Vision, He's new. Be nice to him."

Steve clapped Vision's shoulder, then disappeared down the hall.

The android found himself facing 37 curious faces, including the adults who supervised from the sides of the room. Vision frantically searched his database for something to say.

"Is that for us?" one bold boy asked, pointing at the box.

Vision was grateful for the pointer. "Yes, it is. Will you help me?"

The black youngster wheeled forward, as Vision sat in the chair obviously left for the celebrity visitor. The android set the box on the floor and opened it.

"Cool!" the boy said. He introduced himself as Jamal, while he pulled out a handful of activity books and passed them one way, then sent another handful in the opposite direction. Each child took one and passed the rest along, and soon everyone had one and was tearing the package open to get to the coloring pages and puzzles inside.

"You're an Avenger?" the boy asked, seeing Vision's face on the stickers with the more familiar visages of Cap and Iron Man.

Vision agreed. "I am now," he explained.

"Are you sick?" asked a pale girl with a colorful scarf wrapped around her bald head.

"Why do you ask?"

"Your face is so red," she answered. "People aren't usually that red, unless they have hypertension or carbon monoxide poisoning.

"Or a bad sunburn," offered another child vigorously coloring nearby.

"Or sunburn," the first girl agreed.

"You are very knowledgeable," Vision said to the first girl who belatedly introduced herself as Hayley.

"I want to be a doctor someday," the cancer patient said firmly.

Vision nodded understanding, then answered her original question. "You started with a false premise," he explained. "I am not human. I am an android and I was made this way."

A couple of the children close enough to hear flinched away. "You're a robot? Robots are scary," said an elementary school-aged boy with bandages on his neck and left shoulder.

Yes, Ultron had set back the cause of robot esteem.

Vision said, "I know there have been scary robots in the news."

"I saw them," the boy said. "One broke my window and I got cut." He touched the bandages. "The cuts got 'fected, so I had to come to the hospital."

"I am sorry you were injured," Vision said.

"His name is Jose," Jamal offered.

"I am sorry you were injured, Jose. Those were bad robots," Vision said, trying to simplify his thoughts for the child. "But the Avengers stopped them and they will not be coming back."

"But you're here. And you're a robot," Jose insisted.

"Those were bad robots, but I am a good robot," Vision said, deciding to not try to explain the differences between a robot and an android. "There are good robots and bad robots just like there are good people and bad people."

The boy relaxed a trifle, considering the logic.

Jamal could see that some of the children and even some of the adults still looked nervous. "Cap brought him," Jamal said, loud enough for everyone to see. "Cap wouldn't bring a bad robot to our hospital."

That seemed to make sense to everyone, so they went back to crafts.

"Thank you," Vision said. "I did not want to upset everyone."

"It's OK. People get upset when they don't understand. I'm Muslim," Jamal said. "When Muslim terrorists do bad things, some people get mad at all Muslims; but we're not all alike. I'm from Brooklyn, like Captain America!"

"Being from Brooklyn is bad enough," Hayley said, as if it was an old debate between friends.

"She's from Manhattan," Jamal said, as if it was a dirty word.

"I was born in Manhattan," Vision contributed, trying to join the fun.

Jamal hung his head. "Outnumbered!" He straightened up, as if facing danger bravely. "Let me introduce you to the other kids, Mr. Vision."

He wheeled off. Vision and Hayley followed. The girl walked slowly, as if weakened by her treatments, but was steady on her feet. "I'm supposed to get more exercise," she answered Vision's unspoken concern.

Vision moved among the children, admiring drawings and coaching on puzzles (when asked). His polite, attentive demeanor soon won everyone over. He answered questions about himself and the Avengers. (Yes, he could eat a cookie, thank you. No, he didn't need to go to the bathroom, his system efficiently used every bit of food he consumed. There was no waste to eliminate.)

"That would be nice," a young mother sighed, as she picked up her smelly toddler to take to the changing room.

Vision got the most reaction when he told a girl with braces on her teeth and on her legs how old he was.

"You're not even a year old?" she gasped. "But that would make you a baby!"

"In some ways I am," Vision agreed. "I still have much to learn about the world."

"At least you don't put everything in your mouth," said the young mother, whose toddler was recuperating from surgery after swallowing $1.89 in small change.

Vision smiled at her. "If I did swallow coins, my 'digestion' would make use of the metal. No surgery required."

"Can I adopt you?" the woman teased.

"I apologize, but the Avengers have already adopted me," Vision teased in return.

* * *

When Captain America returned, he found Vision surrounded by children who were teaching him the fine points of coloring. Some, but not all the kids, abandoned Vision to greet Cap. And some who did go to Cap were telling him how great Vision was. Steve was glad to see it.

Trailed by his young fans, Cap progressed slowly to the table where Vision was waiting. Steve had one boy clinging to his back and a blonde-haired girl on his hip. She had a cast from her foot almost to her hip. The boy had braces on both legs. With his free hand, Steve helped the boy slide down to happily take a seat at the table with a new Activity Book.

Then he introduced the little girl. "Vision, this is Denise. Denise, this is my friend, Vision."

The toddler studied Vision's scarlet face, then cheerfully patted it harder than most people would care to be patted. "Pretty!"

"Gently," Steve admonished her.

"Sorry," Denise said. She patted the bemused android's cheek again, more gently. "Pretty," she asserted again.

"She thinks my shield is pretty, too," Steve confided. "I think she's partial to red."

As Steve placed Denise gently at the table, he suggested that Vision visit some of the children who couldn't come to the playroom.

"Hayley and I can take him," Jamal offered.

"Thank you, Jamal," Steve said. "Make sure to take him to see Bobby in dialysis. He was crazy to get out of that chair when he heard Vision was here."

"He loves robots," Jamal agreed.

The crowd called goodbye to Vision, as the two patients guided him out the door.

"You said you were less than a year old?" Jamal asked, as they left the playroom.

"Yes, I have much knowledge but little experience," the android answered. "For instance, I could tell you all the technical details of your treatment, but I do not understand what it means to be a sick child in the hospital with Christmas approaching," Vision confessed.

"That's why we like Cap," Hayley said.

"One reason we like Cap," Jamal amended. "In addition to his general awesomeness and niceness."

Hayley ignored the interruption. "Cap was sick a lot when he was a kid. He had scoliosis and a heart murmur."

"And asthma," Jamal contributed. "He said he almost died because of asthma!" The best player on Jamal's soccer team had asthma and it hardly slowed him down.

"Maybe our grandkids will be shocked that people in our time almost died of cancer," Hayley said optimistically.

"Our grandkids? Is that a proposal?"

Hayley gave him a minor shove on the arm. He poked at her side. The two friends bickered as they led Vision to the orthopedic ward.

Vision smiled at the children's antics and, only then, realized how much he was enjoying himself.

* * *

Steve and Vision spent a good three hours at the hospital, checking in with every child who wasn't too sick for visitors. Little faces crowded the playroom window and waved as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"Thank you, captain, for showing me a new facet of life. That was the perfect Christmas present, embodying the caring and sharing spirit. But now I wonder how I can match this for my Secret Santa recipient."

"Share something of yourself," Steve answered.

Vision began to compute.


	16. Top Secret Santa 2

6

 _Note: The gift exchange was for the Avengers who were present at the time names were drawn. Tony, Clint, Bruce and Thor were not included, because they weren't there.  
Merry Christmas, Jelsemium!_

 **Top Secret Santa 2**

Passing down a corridor at Avengers headquarters, Natasha Romanoff heard a groan coming from one of the side rooms. Wondering if someone had been hurt in training, she pushed open the door.

She found Wanda Maximoff scrolling through screens on a laptop. She was muttering to herself and her free hand was clenched tightly in her hair.

When the door opened, Wanda slammed the laptop shut, but relaxed when she saw Natasha.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked.

Wanda hesitated, then confessed, "It is this Secret Santa. I cannot think what to get. I hardly know him!"

Natasha sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm going to punch Wilson," she vowed crossly. "This gift exchange isn't supposed to make the season more difficult!"

Wanda smiled feebly. "I was going to buy a nice sweatshirt, but then …"

"Then Cap gave Vision an 'experience' and suddenly we all need to step up our game," Natasha finished for her. "I understand." She sighed. "I was going to buy the ugliest sweater I could find, but now that seems … improper."

"Yes, we need to do something more creative, more personal," Wanda agreed.

"Cap sets the bar high," Natasha said. "He doesn't expect anyone to match him, but that's why you feel you have to try."

"Exactly." Wanda nodded vigorously. "I would hate to disappoint."

It's not that they were in a competition, but where Cap led, the others were bound to follow. And Natasha couldn't even complain, because it had been her idea!

"Give of yourself," Wanda groaned. Vision had described Cap's advice many times. He was unusually excited about the gift exchange now.

"And you hardly know Rhodey," Natasha agreed.

"Yes," Wanda began. "Wait, how did you know…?"

Natasha smiled. "Spy. Information gathering is my specialty."

She shut the door, locked it and set privacy mode so no one else could walk in.

"I know who I have and I doubt you have me, or you would have looked more nervous, not less, when I walked through the door. So you have either Rhodey or Cap, and I don't think you'd be so stressed about Cap."

"You are right," Wanda admitted. "He has old-fashioned sensibilities which I can understand. I would probably embroider a handkerchief for him, because he would appreciate the handwork."

Natasha snorted. "And he still uses handkerchiefs. He thinks tissues are wasteful."

"Wait," Wanda realized something. "You must have Sam, because you left him off your list."

Natasha nodded. "Yes, we have the two flyboys." A thoughtful expression possessed Natasha's face. "You mentioned sewing. I can sew. Maybe sewing is the answer for both of us."

"You can sew?" Wanda said curiously. It seemed a talent not much used in the affluent United States.

"I can," Natasha affirmed. "It was part of my training. I had to be able to improvise a disguise and alter clothes to make them more or less sexy depending on the mark." She smiled at the other woman. "I have a wonderful sewing machine. It even does machine embroidery."

"Embroidery by machines?" But even in Sokovia, Wanda had seen team logos embroidered on baseball caps and jackets. "I mean, a personal embroidery machine? I thought they would be big machines in factories."

"I'm sure there are some, but this is for home use. It even sews," Natasha said dryly.

"I would like to see that," admitted Wanda, who had been forced to hand sew her clothes most of her life.

"Come, I'll show you," Natasha said. "You know, I think your idea of a sweatshirt was a good one for the guys. We just need to personalize them. I think a trip to the craft store is in our near future."

Wanda was a little intimidated and a lot flattered to be invited into Natasha's private quarters. But her diffidence vanished when her imagination was fired up by the sewing machine. The two women brainstormed, then went to the craft store where the Sokovian's mind was blown by the variety of supplies. She stroked the strands of embroidery floss, marveling at the many colors. It was just as well that she was limited to a $20 budget ($40, since she and Natasha were working together) or she might have bought everything.

In the end they bought three sweatshirts (buy two, get one free), some fabric paint, embroidery needles and floss and thread for machine embroidery.

To make the sweatshirts more distinctive, they took the sleeves off and reattached them to different shirts — red sleeves on a gray shirt for Sam, gray sleeves on a blue shirt for Rhodey. (Natasha considered putting the blue sleeves on the red shirt to give to Steve as a joke, but knew his shoulders were too wide for this size shirt. But she did assemble the blue and red shirt and put it in a donation box, because someone would like a warm sweatshirt for Christmas.)

Wanda hand-embroidered the guy's names on the left breast, putting wings beneath Sam's name and an arc reactor below Rhodey's. She used several colors and stitching techniques to give an almost three-dimensional effect to the embroidery. The feathers looked lifelike and the color choice made the arc reactor seem to glow.

On the backs of the shirts, Natasha machine-embroidered "Falcon" and "War Machine," then, underneath the names, she hand-painted a large Avengers circle-A logo. They looked like sports team shirts, which was the idea.

"I think we deserve a pat on the back," Natasha said with satisfaction, as she held up Sam's completed shirt for inspection.

"I am excited to see their reactions," Wanda admitted. "When do we do the gift exchange?"

"Tomorrow, when Wilson gets back from visiting his mother," Natasha said. She folded the shirt neatly into a box and reached for the wrapping paper.

"Have you 'spied out' what anyone else is doing?" Wanda teased. Working with Natasha on a craft project had made her less fearful of the Black Widow.

Natasha wrinkled her nose at the joke. "No, I think that may be why Sam went to his mother's house, to get away from the spies. And Rhodey went to the city to do his shopping or plotting."

"I think Vision is making something," Wanda commented. "He thanked me for telling him about the craft store. I think he needed tools of some sort."

"I wonder," Natasha said. She also wondered if Vision was making something for her. He probably wouldn't have talked to Wanda about his project, if it were for her. That left Steve or her as the recipient. She realized she was excited to see what an android would make, no matter which of them received it. This Secret Santa project was becoming more intriguing by the minute. Maybe she wouldn't punch Wilson after all.

* * *

Five-sixths of the Avengers had gathered for their gift exchange and were impatiently waiting for Number 6.

"Where is Sam," Rhodey huffed. "Wasn't this his idea?"

"He just turned off the highway and is taking the side roads to get here," Natasha announced.

"How do you know that?" Rhodey demanded. "Surveillance satellites?"

"The Waze app," Nat replied. "We're Waze friends."

Rhodey eyed her suspiciously, but he never could tell whether Natasha was telling the truth or not."

"In any case, Sam is not late yet," Vision pointed out. "We are all early."

"I am excited," Wanda confessed.

"Yeah, me, too," Natasha said, as if she surprised herself.

Steve Rogers had already presented his gift, so the pressure was off. He felt mild anticipation for the present he would receive, but this was the real gift, seeing his team coming together with a familial spirit.

He'd have to thank Sam again. This had been an excellent idea, despite his early panic. He liked seeing Natasha and Wanda with their heads together like longtime friends. Working on a joint project had broken down barriers between them. Steve would have been hypocritical if he'd pointed out that it was technically against the rules to tell someone who your Secret Santa recipient was, since he'd told Natasha, too.

Steve and Vision heard the slam of a car door.

"He's coming," the android said.

But, instead of coming directly into the community room, Sam entered via the kitchen. Steve heard the sounds of a cooler opening and then the refrigerator. Then, finally, Sam entered bearing what looked like a hatbox, a round box decorated with children's Christmas drawings in crayon.

"You are right on time," Vision said.

Sam looked tired from the long drive, but his eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"Do you want to take a moment to refresh yourself?" Steve asked, getting a groan from Rhodey and a quickly muffled squeak from Wanda, who instantly apologized.

Sam laughed. "No, I'm good. I hit a rest stop just after I got off the turnpike. I knew Rhodes would be twisting. He hasn't talked about anything but Secret Santa since we drew names."

Rhodey gave him a glare, but then ducked his head in acknowledgment. "It's been a long time since I was in a gift exchange," he confessed. "Detached duty as War Machine has been kinda lonely. Hasn't been anyone that cared except Tony and Pepper, and we usually had to Skype our Christmas greetings because I was posted in a war zone."

"Then why don't we start with your gift, James," Natasha said. She and Wanda nodded at each other, then offered packages to Rhodey and to a surprised Sam.

"You have to open them at the same time," Wanda instructed, clenching her hands in excitement.

The guys marveled over the sweatshirts, flatteringly appreciative of the effort needed to personalize the shirts.

Natasha shrugged, a little embarrassed by the praise, "Just something to wear for a workout."

The airmen exchanged a look, then shook their heads in unison. "This is too good to sweat in," Rhodey said.

"More for playing videogames and relaxing," Sam agreed.

"But no messy snacks," Rhodey stipulated. "We don't want to mess them up."

"Right."

Wanda blushed shyly at the praise. She wasn't used to getting appreciation from anyone but her brother.

Rhodey picked up a small package, about the size of a paperback book. "You had me. I had you," he told Wanda, and handed her the present, which was wrapped in scarlet paper, of course.

It was a small photo album, the kind that had one 4-by-6-inch photo per page. The photos were all of New York: The ice skating rink and the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center and holiday window displays along Fifth Avenue. The photo of the statue of liberty included a ticket for the ferry and crown access. (Seeing how Wanda's eyes sparkled, everyone ignored the fact that the price was $21.)

At the end was a printed "ticket" entitling Wanda Maximoff to a personalized guided tour of New York City.

"I got the Liberty ticket for day after tomorrow," Rhodey said. "We have to go soon if you want to see all the Christmas stuff."

Wanda threw her arms around Rhodey's neck and kissed his cheek. "Thank you. I love it. Now I can see things I've only heard about." She had hardly been anywhere but the training facility since arriving in America. She was going stir crazy. It would be very nice to have a day on the town with a helpful guide.

"Enjoy your 'date,'" Sam teased, getting a punch from Rhodey.

"We are just friends, Sam. Shame on you," Wanda chided with a smile.

Before the teasing got out of hand, Steve said, "So, who's next?"

Vision stepped forward before Sam could. "Since Wanda has her gift, perhaps Natasha should have hers."

He handed over a very small box. When Natasha opened it, she found a silvery bracelet made of linked disks. Each disk was engraved with a symbol for one of the Avengers.

"Agent Barton said you appreciate jewelry, so I made this for you."

The flexible bracelet just slipped over her hand, so it was unlikely to fall off. She turned her wrist back and forth, admiring the sheen.

"This is beautiful, Vision. Thank you," she said. She tapped the bracelet with her fingernail and heard a familiar chime. She froze and her voice rose in surprise. "Is this vibranium?"

The android inclined his head. "It is."

"But that's so expensive." Way over the $20 limit, she thought. Everybody thought!

"Not in this case. It cost me nothing," Vision answered. "I realize that the captain spoke figuratively when he said I should share something of myself, but when I thought of jewelry, I realized I could do this literally.

He caught the edge of his cape and pulled a strand loose, so they could all see. Then he squeezed it back in place and smoothed away the split.

"Thank you, Vision," Natasha said with even more emphasis.

Vision cleared his throat, a humanizing affectation he'd picked up somewhere. "I also wondered if the vibranium could magnify a punch if the bracelet was held across the knuckles. But of course I couldn't try that myself." He wouldn't be able to tell, because he was made of the same material as the bracelet.

Natasha's eyes sparked with interest. If there was one thing she appreciated more than weapons and jewelry, it was jewelry that could be used as a weapon.

""I'll have to experiment," she said cheerfully. "But I'll be careful not to damage the bracelet. I love it just as it is."

Steve smiled to see his team's happiness. Natasha had been melancholy since Bruce left, but she was smiling now, not her usual smirk, but a genuine happy smile. And Wanda was grinning ear to ear as she studied the map in the back of her photo album, planning her excursion.

Steve had been particularly worried about Wanda, spending her first Christmas without her twin. Rhodey had made a good choice to give her an activity, something to take her out of Avengers HQ and take her mind off all the changes in her life.

After a few moments watching his friends, Steve realized they were all watching him.

It was Sam's turn to present his gift, but he paused, enjoying the look on Steve's face. He hardly ever saw his friend smile like that. It's not that Steve was grim, but there was always a hint of sadness in the expression of the man out of time.

"What?" Steve asked, when he realized everyone was looking at him.

"You look like you won a million bucks and you haven't even opened your present yet," Rhodey said in amusement.

Steve waved his hand at the others. "This is the best present," he said.

"Well, I hope this isn't an anticlimax," Sam said, stepping forward and offering the hatbox. "Don't tip it," he warned. Fortunately the box was wrapped so the lid lifted straight off.

Steve inhaled with appreciation. "Sam, that looks amazing." He carefully reached in and lifted out a metal springform pan. When he set it on a table, the others could see a beautiful cheesecake.

"Did your mother bake that?" Rhodey sighed. Sam had shared Mama Wilson's cheesecake before. All the Avengers knew it was heavenly.

"No, I did," Sam said proudly, as Steve lifted out a second cheesecake, this one with chocolate marbling.

The Avengers eyed Sam with varying degrees of disbelief, skepticism and awe.

"With strict supervision and constant vigilance from Mama, but, yes, I baked them," Sam said firmly. "So now I know how and I can bake them whenever you want," He told the others, "And these are Steve's present. All for him. Don't go begging him to share."

Betrayal was too kind a word for the look the others gave Sam. He sent a stern look in return, then grinned. "I baked four cheesecakes while I was at home. One the family ate, to make sure I did it right. Mama said I did good, and she ate seconds, so I know she wasn't just being polite."

"And the fourth?" Rhodey asked hopefully.

"I put the fourth in the fridge on my way in. You can fight over it, but these two are Steve's Secret Santa gift."

"I promise I won't touch them," Rhodey said, holding up his fingers in a Scout pledge. The others mimicked him, though Sam was pretty sure none of the others had ever been a Scout. Maybe Natasha had. Who knew what groups that master spy may have infiltrated in the past.

While they had been talking, Steve had pulled out containers of cherry topping and a sheet of paper, a high quality copy of a tattered recipe torn out of a magazine long ago.

"Sam, you don't know what this means to me," Steve said, his eyes misty. "Or, I guess you do, since you chose this present."

"I do not understand, captain," Vision said politely. "The cheesecake meets all the criteria for superior baked goods and my compatriots assure me that previous samples have been delicious. I certainly found the taste and texture pleasant. But I do not understand why you are so moved by pastry."

"When I first tasted Mrs. Wilson's cheesecake, I recognized it," Steve said, fingering the recipe facsimile. "It tasted just like the ones Mrs. Barnes used to bake."

Steve's expression was far away, 70 years in the past. "She thought I needed fattening up — I was pretty scrawny and sick a lot. Ma was a single mother who had to spend most of her money on basic living expenses and all my medicines. We never had much leftover for treats. Ma mostly made fruits pies and crumbles. You could get bruised fruit for half price and it didn't matter in a pie.

"But Mrs. Barnes thought I should eat more eggs and dairy products — to help my bones. She couldn't exactly bring over a plate of scrambled eggs, so she'd make cheesecake," Steve smiled nostalgically. "Maybe it's not what people call good nutrition these days, but it was meant with love.

"So Mrs. Wilson's cheesecake reminded you of Mrs. Barnes?" Natasha asked.

"Not reminded. It was Mrs. Barnes cheesecake, just as I remembered it. I asked Sam where his mother got the recipe and he asked his mother. Turned out, Mrs. Wilson's grandmother got the recipe from the same magazine Mrs. Barnes did, clear back in 1923. This is a copy of the original recipe, handed down in Sam's family."

Steve smoothed the paper out on the table. Steve. It was a copy of a magazine page with the recipe and illustrations of a field of grazing cows and chubby cheeked children at a table eating cheesecake. "I remember these illustrations," Steve said. "I copied them once for practice, but I never wrote down the recipe," he said ruefully.

"Well, now you have it," Sam said staunchly.

"So, Vision, this cheesecake is not just delicious. It's a taste of my childhood. It's a memory of family and that Sam would take the time to learn to make it for me …" Steve shook his head and tried to move to a less emotional point. "Mrs. Barnes never did chocolate swirls," he chided Sam.

"That's Wilson family love," Sam countered. "And there's one more thing. You're coming to my house for Christmas, so Mama can teach you how to make it yourself."

Steve Rogers was instantly shunted aside by Captain America. "I don't know if I should take the time," he said doubtfully.

Natasha just as instantly countered his argument before he made it. "Go with Sam. It will be good for you," she ordered. "You know Rhodey is celebrating with Stark. And Wanda and I are going to the Bartons for the holiday."

"We are?" Wanda began, then sensed insistence from Natasha. "I mean, we are," she turned her question into a statement. "I wish to see my brother's namesake," she finished firmly.

"What about Vision?" Cap asked mildly. "It's not right to leave him alone here."

Natasha, Rhodey and Sam all opened their mouths to invite Vision to their celebrations, but the android spoke first. "But I will not be here on the holiday," he said, surprising them all. "I had not notified you, because my schedule is not firm, but I will be serving food at a 'soup kitchen' in the morning and helping local firefighters deliver toys to children the rest of the day. One of the planned stops will be at the hospital we visited, so I will see our young friends again."

"You're putting the rest of us to shame," Rhodey said, thinking of his planned revels with Tony Stark.

"That was not my intention," Vision said seriously. "I know you have all done much charity work over the years. I am only just beginning. I found great pleasure in our visit to the hospital, captain. I am indebted to you for exposing me to this experience. I was created to serve life. This is another way I can do it. But you, I think, need a rest."

"He's right, Steve. Take a break," Natasha said.

Sam tilted his head at his friend. "It's part of the gift. I'll be offended if you don't take it," he said with a distinct lack of seriousness.

Steve Rogers pushed Cap aside and smiled at Sam. "I accept your kind invitation," he said with mock formality. "Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome."

"OK, everyone's holiday plans are settled and the gift exchange is over?" Rhodey asked.

After exchanging questioning glances, the others agreed that Rhodey was correct.

"So now we can eat cheesecake?" he asked hopefully.

"Last one to the kitchen gets the crust," Natasha teased, taking off like a scalded cat.

Rhodey yelped, "No fair!" and sped in pursuit. Wanda laughed and Vision shook his head, as they followed the competitive twosome.

Sam regarded Steve who wrapped his arms protectively around his cheesecakes. "Don't look at me. You said these are all mine!"

Sam realized he'd thrown himself to the wolves, so he ran off laughing to fight for his share.

Left to himself, Steve cut slices of the two cheesecakes and began eating, remembering Christmases past and looking forward to those yet to come. The others returned with their cheesecake and joined him around the table, poking and nudging with their elbows and playfully trying to spear bits of cheesecake off other Avengers' plates. Steve curled his arm around his gifts and playfully growled when anyone came near, but no matter how fierce he tried to look, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.


	17. Top Secret Santa 3

_A/N: I don't seem to be ready to let go of Christmas. I planned to write about Steve's trip to Sam's home, then I figured readers would want to see Wanda's tour of New York, too. And the tour was a shorter story to write, because I've never actually toured New York. I looked up a few things, but any mistakes are because I just made it up. Speaking of that, when I looked up Statue of Liberty tours writing Top Secret Santa 2, the price to see Lady Liberty and Ellis Island was $21, now I find $28. Guess the price went up this year! Or I was looking at a different tour company last year._

 **Top Secret Santa 3:**

 **The Trip to New York City**

Wanda Maximoff stood on the deck of the ferry, well wrapped in a heavy coat against the chilly winter air. Most passengers were inside. The ones on the deck were taking photos of the Statue of Liberty on the opposite side of the ferry. She and her tour guide for the day, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, had their side of the ferry pretty much to themselves. Wanda's eyes were fixed on Ellis Island as they approached the dock.

"So this is where I would have come to America," she commented.

"Coming from Europe, yes, you would have gone through Ellis Island up to 1954 when it was closed," Rhodey said, consulting a pocket guidebook. ""Cap said his parents came through here from Ireland in the really early 1900s."

Wanda paused to consider, then shook her head. "It is always a shock to think how long ago he was born," she confided.

"I know," Rhodey agreed.

When they disembarked at the island, they walked around the museum, listening to an audio self-tour. Wanda paused to read EVERY sign and look at EVERY item on display. As a Sokovian refugee, she was fascinated by the history of immigration. Rhodey soon grew bored, but he gritted his teeth and continued to walk with his friend. This was her Secret Santa gift from him, after all.

He thought he hid his boredom well, but people tended to forget that Wanda was a psychic. She turned, smiling.

"Why don't you have a seat while I continue to read," she suggested, pointing to a bench where a teenage boy was playing a game on his smartphone.

He gave a token protest, but she insisted. Soon Rhodey was engaged in a two-person game of aerial combat with the teenager, thumbs pounding on the keys.

Wanda exchanged an amused glance with the boy's mother, then they continued to absorb history.

* * *

When Wanda had finally satisfied herself — and the Air Force pilot had lost two out of three games to the 14-year-old — they took the ferry across to Liberty Island. This deck was crowded with camera-snapping tourists, but Rhodey managed to get a photo of Wanda with Lady Liberty behind her.

By common accord, the two Avengers went straight for the stairs to the crown. Their training under Captain America and the Black Widow paid off, as they easily climbed the 154 steps to the observation windows in the crown, leaving most of the crowd puffing behind them.

They spent quite a bit of time enjoying the view and taking photos, then returned to the base where Wanda resumed her reading and Rhodey answered emails.

He stood when she came over to him.

"Thank you. I've had a wonderful morning," she said.

* * *

"It's not over. Now we go downtown," he said.

After the ferry ride back, they took a cab up to Saks Fifth Avenue for its famous window display featuring a Winter Palace theme and then went to Bergdorf Goodman, which was adorned in colorful Swarovski crystals. They walked around the area, following a map Rhodey had downloaded of the best window displays.

Rhodey's phone buzzed and he checked the text message. "Pepper comes through!" he said. "Come on, Wanda."

Walking with more purpose, he led his fellow Avenger past St. Patrick's Cathedral to Rockefeller Center, where Wanda oohed and ahhed over the wonderful holiday decorations.

"We'll have time for that later," Rhodey said. He grabbed her sleeve and towed her up to the "Will Call" window where he claimed two tickets for the Rockettes show.

"No," Wanda objected. "No, that's too much."

"I didn't pay a penny for these," Rhodey promised. "Stark Industries is a supporter and Pepper got the tickets for me, no charge to her either. She wasn't sure she could, because the Christmas Spectacular is so popular, but there was a last minute cancellation. Someone's flu bug is our good fortune."

They got to their seats — right up front! — with just minutes to spare.

"Now you make me feel guilty," Wanda said. "All I gave you was a sweatshirt."

"But you worked for two weeks on those sweatshirts," Rhodey protested. "All I did was order ferry tickets online and ask Pepper for a favor. Besides, I'm having as much fun as you are," he pointed out.

Either Wanda had to accept it, or she needed to walk out before the show started, and who would walk out on the Rockettes? It would be horribly impolite.

The show was amazing — sparkling, extravagant, joyful — far beyond anything Wanda had imagined in her deprived childhood. She was enchanted.

Rhodey appreciated the show, but he most enjoyed seeing the rapt expression on Wanda's face.

Afterward, she couldn't stop talking about it. Rhodey walked beside her, smiling indulgently, contributing one word in twenty. Finally Wanda laughed at herself and stopped.

"I'm sorry. You must think I'm insane."

"No, just having fun for once," Rhodey said honestly. "I'm glad it made you happy. I was afraid it might be too decadently American for you."

Wanda bent her head in acknowledgment. "It's true, I would have thought that. But being here, I could see the spirit in it. There were so many families sharing the holiday together. The show was lavish, yes, but it was a gift of joy to the audience."

"I'm glad you liked it. We don't see you smile often enough," Rhodey said.

That made Wanda think of her dead brother, but she knew Pietro would want her to be happy.

"Thank you for my gift," she told Rhodey. "I suppose it's time to go back," she added reluctantly.

"Just one more thing," Rhodey said. "It's almost time for them to turn on the lights."

While she had been talking, Rhodey had guided her to a good vantage point where they could see the enormous tree. The opening night ceremony was weeks past, but every night the magic happened again at dusk. Now the sun was getting low and decorative lights were coming to life all around them.

A grandmotherly woman was standing near them, also waiting for the lights to come on. She smiled to see their happiness.

"You make a lovely couple," she said impulsively.

Feeling patronized, Rhodey said defensively, "She's not my date, she's my sister." Then he immediately felt sorry when he saw the startled look on the woman's face when she regarded the white woman and the black man.

But the Scarlet Witch immediately understood what both her companions had intended. She leaned across Rhodey and confided, "We were adopted," in her obvious Sokovian accent. "By the Avengers," she sent into Rhodey's mind.

The tourist relaxed and smiled again, picturing orphaned refugees taken in by an American family — which wasn't too far off the mark for Wanda, the Sokovian thought.

"You must have a wonderful family," she said sincerely.

Wanda thought of Steve, Natasha, Sam and Vision. She hugged Rhodey's arm.

"Yes, we do," she answered, and then all the colorful lights came on, just like magic.


	18. Top Secret Santa 4

_A/N: Sorry for the late update. I didn't like the way this was coming out, so I had to rewrite some of it._

 **Top Secret Santa 4**

Sam Wilson squirmed in the driver's seat.

"I wish I hadn't drunk that soda when we stopped for gas," he complained.

"Or that we hadn't thrown away the soda bottles," Steve Rogers agreed.

The already-long drive to the Wilson house took an uncomfortable turn when a big rig skidded on the icy road and jackknifed across all four lanes of traffic. No one was hurt. There wasn't even much damage done, except to the holiday traffic.

All the drivers headed out of DC on Christmas Eve had to cram into one lane and edge around the big rig on the shoulder. Even that slow progress had to stop when emergency vehicles and a massive tow truck bullied their way up the shoulder to address the accident.

Sam was stuck in the non-sweet spot where there were no off ramps. There weren't even any bushes to hide behind to take care of business and Steve was damned if Captain America was going to take a piss by the side of the road in front of crying children and cranky drivers with cell phones.

"We just have to tough it out," Steve said.

"You sure you can't do anything?" Sam asked, for the third time since they'd gotten close enough to see the accident.

Steve said "no," for the third time. "I can't push it any better than the tow truck can pull it. It's just a matter of getting the right angle to straighten it out. We have to wait like everyone else."

"I've got the wings in the trunk," Sam suggested, half-seriously.

The idea was becoming more attractive by the minute.

As they inched closer, the two heroes finally could see the cause of the problem. It was a long, extra-wide flatbed trailer carrying rolls of metal sheeting. At that point, the emergency responders had cleared away the cars damaged by the sliding truck and treated all the fortunately minor injuries. Steve could see they were hooking up the big rig to an enormous tow truck. He rolled down his window.

"Hey, man, it's cold out there!" Sam protested.

"Shh, I'm trying to eavesdrop," Steve replied. It wasn't so difficult, because the guys were shouting back and forth the length of the big rig.

"They're going to back it up as far as they can," Steve reported to Sam. "Then they're going to pull forward to get the truck straightened out and pointed the right direction."

"I don't know," Sam said doubtfully, eying the size of the trailer. "I think they'll run into the center divider."

Steve sighed. "If they do, they'll have to stop everything and unload the trailer, so they can maneuver it more easily."

Sam's eyes widened in alarm. "That could take hours!"

"I know," Steve said glumly.

"Then let's hope the trailer doesn't get caught," Sam said grimly.

Steve nodded, then sat up straight. "They're starting. They're blocking the shoulder now."

Police officers held everyone back, giving the tow truck driver room to back up the big rig.

"Hey! It looks like it's moving!" Sam said hopefully.

Slowly the tow truck backed the disabled big rig onto the shoulder to get a little running room, then it pulled forward gently straightening the bend and turning the rig. It was almost, almost around. The big rig cab skirted the center divider, but the trailer was wider. The front tire caught against the concrete Jersey wall.

"No," Sam groaned, anticipating another round of back-and-forth shuffling, but Steve was out of the car in an instant, his shield in his hand preventing any police interference. He put the shield on his shoulder and put his shoulder to the wheel that was caught.

"Gun it!" he yelled to the tow truck driver, who obeyed.

Steve shoved as the tow truck pulled. The Super Soldier lifted the wheel over the divider, so it actually rolled along the top of the concrete barrier, then he let it drop with a jarring thud back to the road where it belonged.

"Cap!" Sam shouted in alarm, but Steve had seen the danger, as the side of the big rig threatened to squash him against the Jersey wall.

Steve leaped to catch the top of the big rig and rode it around the curve until the truck was straightened out and it was safe to drop down in the newly opened traffic lanes.

"Thanks," the tow truck driver called.

"Couldn't have done it without you," Steve replied. "Or I wouldn't have been sitting in this jam for four hours!"

The tow truck pulled the big rig to the shoulder and the police released the traffic, giving Sam's car first priority. Sam gunned it.

* * *

When they parked at the curb and got out, they could hear shouts from inside. "They're here! Uncle Sam and Captain America are here!"

Steve sniggered. "Uncle Sam and Captain America."

"I won't make patriotic jokes if you don't," Sam said deadpan.

Mrs. Wilson met them at the door. Steve had expected a plump, motherly woman but Mrs. Wilson was tall and angular, with an aristocratic bearing and a friendly smile. She stretched out her arms. Sam fended her off. "Mama, we've spent hours in that traffic jam. If you hug me, I'm going to burst!"

With a smile, his mother stepped aside from the door and gestured the men inside. "You know where the facilities are."

Sam dragged Steve toward the stairs, hardly giving him a chance to say "Hi" to Mrs. Wilson. Steve caught a glimpse of a crowd of people setting out dishes on a buffet table that was almost groaning from the weight of the food. There were two large turkeys, bowls of mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and casserole dishes of various shapes and sizes, covering every square inch of the side table. While the main dining table was pristine with the best gold-edged china, gleaming silverware, sparkling glasses and neatly folded, pumpkin-colored actual cloth napkins. Sam had warned Steve that the Wilsons went all out for Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve and Easter. But Steve, the poor boy from the small family, hadn't been prepared for the number of people, or the number of dishes. The smells made the Super Soldier's mouth water. But the sight of so much abundance made him feel unworthy.

Sam pushed the thunderstruck Steve in the direction of the downstairs bathroom, then took the stairs two at a time to get to the other bathroom. Finally, relief!

He didn't dawdle any longer than he needed to, not wanting to leave Steve at the mercy of his family. When he came down, the Super Soldier was waiting, lingering beside the stairs.

Steve looked nervous, which Sam understood, because his family was a lot to take all at once. The airman knew that people expected Cap to be confident and take-charge, but this was socially awkward Steve showing through the Captain America veneer.

"They won't bite," Sam joked. "Not when there are so many more tasty things than Super Soldier."

Steve gave a weak grin in return, but he clenched his hands together to stop them from shaking.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"I don't want your ma to think I'm a glutton," Steve confessed.

That was Depression-era Steve talking, Sam thought, a man who had grown up when it was impolite, nearly criminal, to eat too much of someone else's food. Steve always was a little ashamed of how much food he needed to maintain his Super Soldier body. He always ate before going out with friends or going to a party.

Sam put a hand on Steve's shoulder, forcing his friend to look up and meet his eyes.

"If you were big and fat, Mama might think you were a pig, but you're obviously not eating more than you need. She understands about active men. This is not the first time I've brought friends for a holiday. One Thanksgiving, I brought half my squad, everyone who couldn't get home to his own family, all of them fresh from the Middle East and starved for home cooking. Now that was gluttony!" Sam said with fond remembrance. "And no one turned a hair. They just kept passing the serving platters."

"You don't understand, Sam," Steve said urgently. "I really need to eat."

Sam's eyes widened. He'd only seen that a couple of times after super strenuous missions had drained Steve's reserves. It had been impressive, maybe a little scary, to see how much food the Super Soldier could put away.

Sam recognized that the traffic jam had ruined their plan of getting a late lunch before their early dinner, then Steve had used a major burst of energy to boost that truck over the barrier. Sam realized that Steve's hands weren't shaky because of nerves, but because of hunger. And he was ashamed of his appetite.

Rather, he was worried that he would embarrass Sam in front of his family.

"Uncle Sam?" a young voice called. A boy poked his head out of the dining room. "Are you almost done? 'Cause the food is ready and grandma won't let us start without you and I'm star-ar-arving!" He stretched the last word out, ending with a little whine like a hungry dog.

Sam chuckled. "Give me one more minute to wash my hands, Darryl."

When the boy went back to report, Sam told his friend. "Steve, stop worrying. I've got your six," he promised. "This is a party. Try to have fun. I'll keep your plate loaded." Sam smiled with wistful remembrance. "It'll be just like old times, sneaking food to Jack."

"Who's Jack?"

"He was my dog," Sam drawled. He made a play of studying Steve's face. "He was a Golden Retriever. You look a lot like him. Hair's the same color …"

Steve smiled a genuine smile and gave his friend a shove. They went into the dining room, pushing each other like schoolboys. Mrs. Wilson smiled, even as she scolded them to behave.

More people had gathered in the dining room since the two Avengers had arrived. The crowd milling near the buffet table included Sam's sisters and their families, his aunts and uncles and cousins, a few of the neighbors and Mrs. Manning and Mr. Snead from the senior center who didn't have any family, Sam explained, making brief introductions as they wedged their way into the crowded room.

Sam surveyed the massive spread. "Why are there only three turkeys?" he demanded, to prove to Steve this abundance was normal for a Wilson family feast. "What happened humorously to the third one?"

"Minnie brought a ham this year," Mama said, gesturing to the glazed and spiral-sliced beauty.

"Ooh, nice choice Aunt Min!" Sam exclaimed.

Mrs. Wilson gestured Steve to go first in the serving line. Steve balked, because that would mean everyone would be watching.

"Please, ladies first," the captain insisted.

Mama Wilson nodded acceptance. "Thank you, captain," she said politely. "Ladies," she called the other women forward and the little girls scampered to join them. Elderly Mrs. Manning from the senior center took the last spot, between Mrs. Wilson and Captain Rogers.

With her arthritis, she had difficulty juggling her plate, so Steve assisted her, dishing up her selections for her. While he did his gentlemanly duty, Sam concentrated on loading both their plates to the max, giving a running commentary as he did.

"You can't miss Aunt Beth's sweet potatoes," he told Steve. "And Cousin Jim wraps his asparagus in bacon!" Sam carefully laid a bed of sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing and vegetables, then topped it with a pile of meat — "Gotta try both turkeys. They have different spices." — and balanced two rolls on each mountain of food.

"Are you going to eat all that?" his mother asked doubtfully.

"I'm starving," Sam asserted. "We missed lunch sitting in that traffic jam."

Mrs. Manning chuckled. "Leave them be. They're growing boys," she said, patting Steve's hand.

Mama Wilson glanced at Steve's overflowing plate, but didn't say any more when Sam gave her the "don't embarrass me in front of my friends" look that all children learn.

Everyone settled at the table. Darryl's sister Annie, the youngest at the table, was invited to say grace.

"Dear God, thank you for all this food. Bless my family and all our friends and Goldy and Punkin. And happy birthday, Jesus," she said brightly.

"Amen," everyone said, and began to eat. For a few moments there was silent appreciation of the delicious food, then the conversation began.

Naturally, everyone wanted to know about the superhero in their midst. Questions began flying. Thanks to his enhanced jaw muscles, Steve could eat quickly without gulping his food and he could answer questions without talking with his mouth full. He answered what he could — some things are classified — and Sam helped out to give his friend a chance to swallow.

When Steve was getting to the bottom of his plate, Sam said, "Hey, Uncle Fred, tell that story about the colonel and the kitten. Steve's never heard it."

Fred always raised his eyes to the ceiling before he started a story. When everyone looked at him and he looked up, Sam shoved his remaining food onto Steve's plate. With a wink to his fellow Avenger, Sam got up for a second trip to the buffet. A tiny frown line appeared between his mother's eyes, but then she smiled and shook her head.

After Fred's humorous story, conversation became more general and Steve found out, among other things, that Goldy was a hamster and Punkin was a cat. With the focus off him, he was able to work his way through his second plate of food undisturbed. He ate like a machine, with quick, neat bites and decisive chewing.

Seated across from Steve, Darryl became so fascinated by Cap's precision that he forgot to eat himself. If he could eat like that, he'd have more time for videogames after dinner.

"Can you teach me how to eat that fast?" he blurted. "It's so cool."

Steve immediately set his fork down, his shoulders hunched in embarrassment.

"Darryl!" snapped his mother and grandmother together.

The boy hunched his shoulders defensively, just like Steve. "What?"

Sam nudged Steve with his shoulder. "Eat, Cap. Nobody cares. Honest."

But Steve looked at Mrs. Wilson. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a pig."

Mama saw her guest was seriously embarrassed. Words would not be enough to correct this gaffe. She walked round the table to pat Steve on the shoulder, then she picked up Sam's plate and scraped all his food onto Steve's plate, proving she had noticed Sam's covert operation, just the way she'd always noticed him feeding the dog at the table.

"You eat as much as you want, Steve Rogers, and then eat a little too much, like everyone else is going to. You're obviously not running to fat, so you must be putting that food to good use, like a prime athlete or a warrior. This is a feast, so you feast," she ordered.

"It's not the way I was brought up, to eat so much of someone else's food," Steve explained, eyes cast down.

Mama Wilson said firmly, "Letting someone leave my table hungry, is not the way I was brought up."

Steve met her eyes and in that aristocratic brown-skinned face he saw his own mother's pride and compassion. They smiled at each other and Sam gave an inaudible sigh of relief.

Steve swallowed another mouthful of turkey, then bravely asked his neighbor to pass the gravy. Everyone went back to eating, but the young ones were soon full. They were excused from the table, so the adults could eat and chat in peace. They knew the kids wouldn't go far because dessert hadn't been served yet.

Darryl lingered. "I'm really sorry, Captain Rogers," he said. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"It's over and done," Steve said. "No hard feelings." He held out his hand for Darryl to shake, which made the boy feel very grown up.

"After you're finished, will you come out and play Frisbee with us?" he asked. "I hear you're pretty good at it," he added cheekily, making the adults chuckle, even Steve.

"I'll do that," Steve promised. He smiled. "As soon as I've finished eating," he added and cut himself another bite.


	19. A Taxing Day

_A/N: I am working on a longer, multi-chapter story, but it keeps getting longer and I don't have much time to work on it. My arthritis has been acting up, so I just can't sit down at the computer when I come home after working on the computer all day at work. In the meantime, here's a quick tax day story._

* * *

 **A Taxing Day**

Cooper and Lila Barton thundered through the house like a herd of wild elephants.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Their Auntie Nat deftly cut them off from the den and herded the elephants into the family room.

"Don't bother Daddy now," she said. "He's on a mission."

"Is he going to shoot bad people with arrows?" Lila asked. Because that would be unusual when he was at home on the farm.

"No, but he might shoot himself," Natasha Romanoff said, with a smile to let the kids know she was joking.

"With an arrow?" Cooper asked, playing along. "That would be tricky!"

"He is the Amazing Hawkeye, after all," Natasha said. "Either go outside or play quietly until he's done," she instructed.

A banshee wail came from the den. "Laura! Have you seen the interest statement from the bank?"

"There wasn't one!" Laura shouted back at her harried husband.

"Sh … shoot!" the frustrated father amended his curse. "It's April 15, why isn't the statement here! Maybe the information is on the end-of-the-year statement." He rummaged through his tax folder. "Where's the December statement?" he shouted.

"In the filing cabinet, under bank statements," Laura said patiently. She entered the den, patting baby Nathaniel on his back.

"Why is it there? And why isn't the statement here?" Clint complained.

"Clint, the interest income is like 12 cents, one penny a month, I think," Laura said. "They don't have to send a statement for that small amount and we don't have to declare it."

Clint sat up in outrage. "Twelve cents? Why do we even keep money in that savings account, then?"

"Because if we keep $1,000 in the account, we don't have to pay fees on the checking account. It saves us about $15 a month."

"Oh. OK, then." Clint brightened momentarily. "That's like making $15 a month we don't have to declare!"

"Good thinking," Laura said slightly sarcastically.

Clint gave her a dirty look, then dove back into his tax preparation.

Clint didn't e-file because he wanted to keep his family off the grid as much as he could. Income taxes was where his work life and home life came crashing together, so he preferred the old-fashioned post office to keep them as far apart as possible. He liked to fill out the form once in pencil, so he could make changes, then he redid it in ink. Laura saw he was copying from last year's form.

"Don't forget to change this," she said, pointing to a box that had a "2" in it.

Clint looked up at her and at his infant son who was reaching out to grab Daddy's hair.

"Right, my little tax deduction!" He gave the giggling baby big smacking kisses, then changed the number of dependents to "3."

Laura went to the next room and found Natasha supervising the kids who were playing with Avengers Legos. The super spy was helping them build Avengers Tower out of little plastic bricks. It was adorable. Laura wisely did not say that out loud, but Natasha raised an eyebrow at her as if the agent had divined the woman's thoughts.

"I don't know why he waits until the last minute to do his taxes," Natasha said.

"He says he doesn't want to give the government his money any sooner than he has to. Why should they draw the interest on it?"

"The penny's worth of interest," Natasha said dryly.

"At least it's better than last year. Clint literally pulled his hair out."

Natasha nodded. "Trying to get our W2s after SHIELD fell was a nightmare!"

"Fortunately, this year it's just one W2 from the Astwa Subsidiary of Stark Industries," Laura said. "What's Astwa mean, anyway? Clint just snorted when I asked."

Natasha also snorted. "Stark named it. It stands for 'Avengers Save The World Again.'"

Laura snorted. Nathaniel snorted, just because everyone else was. The woman laughed.

"To be honest, it's no worse than Strategic Homeland yadda yadda yadda," Laura said.

Before Natasha could answer, Clint galloped in and made a circuit of the room, with his fists raised high like a triumphant boxer. "We're gonna get a refund! We're gonna get a refund!" He kissed chuckling Nathaniel on the forehead. "Bless you, little deduction!" He ran out again, while Nathaniel laughed and the older children cheered.

"Does that mean you're done?" Laura called. "Because it's after 2, doesn't the post office close at 3 on Friday?"

"I know. I know. I'm almost done, I just need to copy the info in ink, attach the forms and run to the post office," Clint called back. "Plenty of time."

"Does he know that he has until Monday to file this year?" Natasha asked.

"No, and don't tell him!" Laura said with a smirk. "I want him to get this out of his system!"

The women — and the baby — laughed.

* * *

 _A/N: For those of you not in the U.S. or too young to worry about taxes, the deadline for filing income taxes is usually April 15, which was Friday this year, but because of an odd holiday quirk, the tax deadline has been moved to Monday, April 18, this year, which a lot of people didn't realize. Also, a W2 is the earnings statement that your employer sends to you, so you can file taxes. Imagine how hard it would have been to get a W2 the year after SHIELD fell!_


	20. Early Holiday

_A/N: Because I don't want to post Civil War related stories until June, I needed one more story. This is Memorial Day weekend in the U.S., but that's not the holiday I wrote about. This is an early holiday story set while the new Avengers are still something like a family._

 **Early Holiday**

It was a Tuesday in June when the door to Steve Rogers' office banged open.

"OK, what's the emergency?" Hawkeye demanded. "I've got to be home by Sunday."

Clint Barton was fully dressed for combat, with his bow in his hand and his quiver on his back.

Steve, who was casually dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, gave the semi-retired Avenger a puzzled look.

"Hi, Clint. What are you doing here?"

"You called me!" Clint said in exasperation.

Steve shook his head immediately. "I didn't call."

"But Nat said I was needed for a mission," Clint protested.

Steve frowned. "Friday, where is Agent Romanoff?"

"Agent Romanoff is occupied in the training room, captain," the AI's Irish-accented voice answered immediately.

Steve rose from his desk. "Let's see what she has to say. Maybe she's got something in the works I don't know about."

As the men approached the training room, they heard a flurry of activity. They entered, expecting to see intense sparring, but were greeted with "Surprise!"

A banner hanging across the back wall read, "Happy Father's Day!"

Sam Wilson fired what looked at a mortar above their heads. Red, white and blue streamers and glittery silver confetti rained down upon the astonished men. Wearing garish pointed party hats, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes and Vision blew strident party horns, while Wanda Maximoff danced over to put party hats on the unresisting duo, who had begun to smile at their friends' unexpected antics.

"Happy Father's Day," she told Clint and then Steve, giving each man a kiss on the cheek.

"Romanoff, what's going on here?" Clint demanded.

"Wanda wanted to thank you, both of you, for taking care of her and giving her a new home," Natasha said, speaking for Wanda who seemed suddenly shy.

"After everything I did …" Wanda choked up.

Vision patted her shoulder in comfort. Clint had to fight not to laugh. The fluorescent orange party hat clashed terribly with the android's red skin.

Wanda took a deep breath. "So, when Sam told me about Father's Day, I thought it would be a good time to say thank you."

"And since Clint has somewhere else to be on Father's Day, we chose Cap's day to honor you both," Sam said with a smirk.

Rhodey covered his grin; Natasha didn't bother.

"My day?" Steve asked suspiciously.

Rhodey tugged a string and another banner unrolled, covering the Father's Day sign. It read "Happy Flag Day!"

Right, June 14.

Steve palmed his face, while everyone else laughed.

"At least that explains the red, white and blue streamers," Clint commented.

"If I have to put up with this, there'd better be cake," Steve threatened.

"Of course there's cake," Sam scoffed.

"Wanda baked it herself," Vision added.

It was a beautiful sheet cake, with vanilla icing and "Thank You, Team Dads" piped in slightly wobbly letters and tiny paper U.S. flags stuck all over it.

"Let's eat," Rhodey said. He began to cut squares of cake while Sam poured red punch.

As Clint took his refreshments, he asked Wanda, "I know Natasha has been a big help to you, too. Why didn't you honor her on Mother's Day?"

Natasha heard his question and laughed soundlessly at her longtime friend.

"Because she said she'd kill me," Wanda answered matter-of-factly.

"Should have seen that coming," Steve said in Clint's ear.

 _A/N: This year, Flag Day (June 14) is the Tuesday before Father's Day (Sunday, June 19)._

 _Look for the Civil War stories in the Captain America archive, starting next week. I think I'll put most of them in an anthology called The Reconstruction._


	21. Just Like We Practiced

_A/N: A "Back Porch" story based on a line from "Captain America: Civil War"_

* * *

 **Just Like We Practiced**

Wanda practiced with her powers using basketballs until she could sink a basket from clear across the practice yard, even from around the corner. Using her powers alone, she snatched the ball out of Sam's hands, spun it in the air on a finger of scarlet mist, then set it at Steve's feet, holding it in place so it didn't budge even when Steve tried to kick it. The combined force of her powers and his Super Soldier strength made the poor ball burst like a balloon.

"That was mine," Sam sighed sadly.

"I'll buy you another," Steve promised.

"Two," Wanda offered, feeling bad that they'd ruined the ball.

"What's the next step?" she asked Steve. She looked doubtful when he told her, but she trusted Cap.

She practiced lifting her new target — it was considerably heavier than a basketball and a more awkward shape. Then finally, she tried throwing it.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Wanda repeated repeatedly, literally wringing her hands as she followed her teammates into the building.

If Natasha hadn't been, well, Natasha, she would have gaped at the sight of Steve sitting on the linked arms of Sam and Rhodey as they carried their leader.

"What happened?" Nat said sharply. "Are you all right?" she demanded of Steve.

He wasn't bleeding that she could see, but he held himself stiffly with gritted teeth that ground together whenever his bearers made a misstep. And he was covered in dirt.

"I'm fine," Steve insisted, though his grimace belied his words.

"Liar," Natasha said.

"I'll be fine," Steve amended.

Pacing the group as they continued toward the infirmary, Natasha looked at Sam, who said, "I think he's cracked a couple of vertebrae."

"Traitor," Steve muttered.

"Why isn't he on a backboard — on a stretcher?" Natasha asked severely.

"He was going to walk back," Rhodey said. "This was a compromise."

"Natasha, nothing seems to be out of place. We've seen him in worse condition," Sam continued, trying to pacify her.

"He needs to lie down and get X-rayed," Rhodey contributed over Steve's grumbles.

"What happened?" Natasha asked.

"I fell," Steve answered.

Wanda winced at the words. "It was my fault," she said meekly.

"No, It was my idea," Steve insisted. "We just need more practice."

"No!" Wanda, Sam and Rhodey chorused.

"Yes," Steve said firmly in his "I am the captain" voice. "But not now," he accepted.

"I still haven't heard what happened," Natasha said in a low, dangerous voice that indicated someone better answer her instantly.

Sam sighed. "You know how Wanda's been practicing throwing basketballs through windows?"

"Yes. Wait, you mean ..."

"I asked her to throw me," Steve said, taking responsibility.

"But the weight was different," Wanda said miserably. "And Steve's not, you know, round like a ball."

"The human shape is an awkward one," Natasha said, a flicker of humor showing at her lips.

"She overcompensated for my weight and threw me harder than I expected," Steve said. "And when I tried to turn to take the impact on my shield, I disturbed her balance or concentration or something."

"He hit the wall with his back and fell two stories to the ground," Rhodey finished.

"So when you say Wanda threw Steve through the window, what you're really saying is ..."

Wanda sighed. "I missed," she confessed.

"Better luck next time," Natasha consoled her. "Maybe next time she can knock some sense into your thick skull," she told Steve.

"Never happen," Sam said.

"Probably not," Steve agreed unrepentant. "My head's the only thing that doesn't hurt."


	22. We've Talked About This

_A/N: Based on a line from "Captain America: Civil War." There are references to "A Vision of Pain," "Back Porch" chapters 11-13._

* * *

 **We've Talked About This**

One of the best things about being with the Avengers was that Wanda Maximoff didn't have to lock her door at night. There were no dangers here to barricade herself against, no intruders to threaten her. It was very relaxing.

Fresh out of the shower, Wanda was wearing a white towel turban and a pink terry cloth bathrobe. Just as she slipped the robe off her bare shoulders, Vision opened her unlocked door.

"Wanda?"

Wanda squealed "Vision!" as she yanked the robe into place, cinched the belt and spun to face her intruder.

Mortified, Vision had put his hand over his eyes. "I didn't see anything except your shoulders. Your shoulder blades have exceptionally pleasing proportions," he offered. He would have been blushing red, if he hadn't already been red-faced to start with.

Wanda heaved a pillow at him, just as she would have if the interloper had been her brother. Then she gawked and shrieked in surprise.

Vision's eyes flew open, to see what threatened his friend. He blinked in surprise to see how tall she'd grown.

The other Avengers burst in — Cap holding his shield and Natasha brandishing two handguns.

Following Wanda's pointing finger, everyone looked down at Vision who looked down at himself and saw he had sunk to the waist in the floor.

"What happened?" Steve demanded.

"I don't know!" Wanda answered. "I was getting dressed and Vizh barged in, just like Pietro used to. I threw a pillow at him and it went right through him – so I screamed."

"Seems reasonable to me," Sam agreed.

He took her hairbrush and poked the handle at Vision. It went in with no resistance at all.

"Like poking air," he reported.

"What did you do?" Steve asked Vision.

"I don't know."

"Well, don't undo it," Rhodey ordered. "Tony will kill us if we make a gaping hole in the floor."

"What happened?" Natasha asked Vision.

"I was embarrassed to barge in on Wanda when she was dressing," Vision answered. "As the saying goes, I wanted to sink through the floor."

"And so you did," Natasha said.

"I did," Vision admitted. "But I don't know how to undo this."

"You can fly, man!" Rhodey exclaimed in exasperation. "Fly!"

Vision concentrated on levitating and began to rise until he was two inches above the floor.

"Now try to land," Steve encouraged.

"Vision put a toe down and it dipped into the floor as if into a pool. He pulled his foot back hastily.

"No, don't think about it," Sam said. "Just step down."

"Look at me, Vizh," Wanda encouraged. "Now step down."

Without thinking about it, Vision stepped from the air onto the solid floor. Everyone sighed in relief.

"How odd," the android commented, examining his hands. "Apparently I can vary my density."

Cap thought it would have saved a lot of grief if Vision had learned this before he'd been injured in the fight with the dinosaurs.

"You can get less dense. Can you get more dense?" Sam asked curiously.

"Not inside!" Rhodey protested.

"Right. Outside," Steve ordered. Everyone ran for the practice field.

"Don't do anything without me!" Wanda said, yanking off her turban and letting her wet hair drop down her back.

"Don't stop to put on your makeup!" Natasha warned with a wink, shutting Wanda's bedroom door firmly.

Moments later, Wanda joined them in the field wearing mismatched socks and workout gear with her curling uncombed hair dampening the back of her jacket.

Rhodey and Sam were setting up a pair of bricks about three feet apart, while Vision paced, walking gingerly as if he might sink into the earth again. Natasha came from the warehouse where they kept training supplies. She was carrying one of the wooden planks she used to demonstrate the power of a properly placed punch or kick. Steve followed her, carrying one of the two-by-fours he used to practice the moves Natasha taught — because he could break a plank with a flick of his pinkie.

Natasha laid her board across the bricks. It was thick enough that it didn't bow when Vision stepped on it.

"Now, try to make yourself heavier," Steve suggested. He stood the two-by-four on its end and wrapped one arm around it to hold it in place. He looked like a man leaning on a lamppost, except he was holding up the lamppost.

Vision wasn't sure what it felt like to get heavier. He thought deeply about how it felt to accidentally become less dense, then mentally tried to reverse that sensation.

The avengers saw the board begin to sag in the middle beneath his feet.

"Back away!" Natasha warned, suiting action to words.

The board bowed more and began to splinter along the edges.

"Get back!" Steve barked.

The board snapped in half and splinters sprayed out like darts, but Steve's shield sliced into the ground and stood like — well, like a shield to protect his friends. Splinters pinged off the vibranium and the Avengers remained unscathed.

"That's impressive," Sam said, offering a high five to Vision who responded to the gesture a beat late, but appropriately.

"Let's try something bigger," Natasha decided. She was fully focused on exploring this new ability. She gestured Sam to clear away the broken boards and beckoned Steve to put the two-by-four in place, so Vision would be standing on the thickest part.

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" Sam and Steve barked as one, as they moved to obey her command. Natasha rolled her eyes.

Vision stepped up on the two-by-four with more confidence and concentrated on growing more dense.

"Nothing's happening," Rhodey said in disappointment.

"No, look!" Wanda pointed. The two-by-four wasn't bending, but the bricks had sunk half an inch into the ground.

Vision considered the sunken bricks, then stepped over to a square of concrete in the walkway. He gave himself a sharp mental command. His feet sank into the concrete and cracks shot from side to side, as if a rock had hit a mirror.

Rhodey palmed his face.

"I will replace it," Vision assured him.

"Throw your shield at him," Natasha told Steve.

"No," Steve answered flatly. He still had nightmares about his shield slicing Vision open.

"Baby." Natasha snatched the shield off Steve's back and heaved it at Vision with nowhere near the force that Steve could have used.

Vision raised his extra dense hand to catch the shield. He stopped it, then dropped it. "Ouch," he said in mild surprise. There was a gash across his palm. Vibranium still cut vibranium.

Steve snatched back his shield, giving Natasha a look twice as mean as she thought he was capable of. She was mildly impressed.

Vision saw the captain's agitation and reassured him. "This is a minor wound. I can repair it instantly." He concentrated on his hand and his vibranium-infused flesh flowed together, leaving his palm unmarked. "See, I am undamaged. But, if we wish to test my density further, I would rather you threw rocks at me."

"You heard the android," Natasha said.

The Avengers tossed the broken planks at Vision, then the bricks. They started gently, but were reassured when the missiles bounced right off him. Sam collected some rocks, and they threw at Vision, while he practiced varying his density, so sometimes the rocks bounced off and sometimes they passed through. Eventually, Steve was reassured enough to test Vision by hurling the bricks at him, while Wanda used her powers to raise the two-by-four and hit him like a battering ram. It just bounced off.

Rhodey donned his armor and punched the android, sensors recording an impressive increase in Vision's mass.

"Are you at high density?" Natasha asked Vision.

"Yes."

The spy drew her pistol and fired before Steve could say anything. The bullet ricocheted off his leg and flattened against War Machine's.

"Hey!" Rhodey protested.

"Nat!" Steve protested.

She shrugged. "It would have been a flesh wound."

"I think it's time to stop abusing our teammate," Steve said firmly.

"I don't mind, captain. It is entertaining."

"Then let's say, I've had enough," Steve said grumpily.

They went back inside, Natasha already plotting a new workout regimen for Vision.

Wanda went back to her room to get dressed properly and to wrestle with her hair, which had dried in unruly curls. When she finished, she sat on her bed to practice guitar until dinnertime.

She was fully dressed and not really surprised when Vision walked through her locked door to call her to dinner, but she squealed for the form of it and threw a pillow at him, which he caught.

"We need to talk about this," Wanda said sternly.


End file.
